


Stars Are Just Hot Gases That Eventually Burn Out And Vanish.  Like Me.

by jarediscronchtastic



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drugs, Lots of Cursing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, im sorry, may be pretty triggery, mostly Connor's pov but we'll see, seriously this has a lot of dark thoughts, sorry for this, suicidal thoughts/attempts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-06-28 16:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 58,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarediscronchtastic/pseuds/jarediscronchtastic
Summary: Connor has been hurting.  As each day goes by, Connor feels worse, and worse, and worse.  He can't escape his self-hatred, he can't escape the taunts, he can't escape the fact that he knows he's worthless.  There's no escape.  Or maybe there just might be a way.After Connor attempts suicide, there's nothing he wants more than to go back and try it again until he can finally get ONE thing in his life right.  Well, until he meets someone who may help him have a life that might be worth living after all.





	1. Freak.

I sigh as I arrive home.  It is peaceful, well, of course it is, it’s three in the morning.  Everyone is asleep as I quietly enter the Murphy home. I had spent the day after school in the park, smoking my troubles away, losing myself in that blissful numb feeling.  Now, though, I am back home, back in the “perfect” home, reeking of yankee candles mixed with wine.

 

I make my way to my room, letting my bag fall from my shoulders, landing with a soft  _ thump  _ on the ground.  Heading straight for my bed, I flop over, seeming to melt into the soft comforter, smelling of fabric softener.  The scent makes me feel sick, too sweet, but it’s familiar nonetheless. Taking a deep inhale, I mush my face deeper into the mattress, letting out a groan.  I have a headache, my body feels heavy, and nothing sounds better than hours of deep sleep.

 

But I can’t sleep yet, no.  I fumble around for my razor beneath my bed, hidden in a matchbox.  I don’t even know why I’ve even been cutting anymore. Lately, I’ve just felt like utter shit, and so, I cut.  It’s a routine; go to school, go to the park to smoke since my mom would fucking yell my head off about the health hazards, come home, cut, sleep.  Normally, I’d be home for dinner, high as a kite, but today I lost track of time. Yeah, eleven hours of time. I smoked, napped, grabbed some pizza, repeat.  Or maybe I just didn’t want to put up with my parents and sister and act like we were all the fucking Brady Bunch.

 

I empty the box onto my bed, the light of the moon illuminating the metal blade as it topples to the bed.  I pick it up gingerly between two fingers, then put it between my teeth as I roll up my sleeve. There’s not a lot of space left on my arm, honestly, it’s riddled with scars, old and new.  My right arm is nearly perfectly clean, since I’m a righty and it’s a pain in the fucking ass to try and cut with my left hand, so I have one fucked up arm and one clean arm. My mom always tells me not to wear such long sleeves in the heat, but I shrug her off, tugging the sleeves down further.  I don’t give a shit if I die of heatstroke, as long as I have them covered, I’m fine. 

 

People would expect me to stop, try and tend to the scars if I was  _ so  _ embarrassed about them, or scared people would judge me (as if I give a shit about what other people think), but I don’t.  I keep doing it, and I have zero intention to  _ ever  _ stop.  

 

The metal bites into my skin, and I inhale sharply as I watch the blood bubble up above the surface, tainting my pale skin.  I cut a few more times, watching with a bit of interest as the blood keeps coming up. Dropping the blade to the bed, not caring that it’s getting blood on the sheets, I tug at the skin, causing more blood to pool.  With a single manicured finger, I swipe through the blood, rubbing it over the bumps and ridges of my scarred arm, my finger becoming stained with orange stickiness. The metallic stench fills my senses, and I become surrounded with the blood, the smell of it, the feeling of it come out of me and on my fingers, even how it looks, the shiny liquid as it slowly begins to dry on my arm.  

 

And soon, the moment is over, I’m left with a bloody arm, hand, and razor, as I am every other night.  Sloping off to the bathroom, I rinse myself off before cleaning the razor. I dry my arm and hand off, not caring if I’m being gentle or not, and finish off by peeing and brushing my teeth.

 

Wiping the toothpaste from my face, I open the medicine cabinet, rifling through the pill bottles.   _ Orange, orange, orange.   _ Orange, the colour of the blood stains lingering on my skin.  Orange, the colour of the pill bottles. Orange, the colour of the small hand towels I wipe my formerly bloodied hands with.  The smell is covered up with cheap hand soap and mint toothpaste. All traces of the previous minutes are gone, save for the new reddish lines in my arm.  As I pull down my sleeve again, the fabric rubbing against my raw skin, I select a bottle of pills, pocketing it.  _ Should be useful.   _

 

I head off to bed at last, letting my body sink into the mattress as my nose fills with the fabric softener smell.  Even though I napped all day, I'm still tired, so I drift off to sleep quickly. 

 

That night, I dream of the old apple orchard, the one that's closing up in a couple of months.  I'm there, in the expanse of yellowed grasses, staring up at the sky, when I feel a warm hand rest on mine, fingers interlocking.  The weight of someone's body leans against my side, and for some reason, it makes my heart swell. The sunshine heats my face, and I continue to have my head turned up, away, to feel the sun, not even bothering to see who it is beside me.  Perhaps in my dream I already know who it is. In the back of my mind. Maybe that's why it doesn't strike me to look back. Or maybe I just don't care. I'm too focused on the  _ feeling _ of their presence,  _ whoever _ they may be.

 

The next morning, I wake to my mother’s calling.  

 

“I'm fucking awake!” I holler back, angry that I have to be awake, angry that she's going to make me go to school when I'd much rather stay home and  _ sleep _ .  I get dressed, then head off to the bathroom.  After I do my business, I light a joint, cracking open the window to let out the smoke.  I wait the next few minutes, getting high, before my mom calls again. Tossing it out the window, I go back to my room, rummaging through the pair of jeans I wore last night until I get the bottle.  I stick it in my pocket, then finally head downstairs.

 

“Good morning!” Cynthia calls, annoyingly chipper as always.  Larry just glances up before turning back to his newspaper. I don't usually like to acknowledge them as my parents, so their names suits me just fine,  _ especially  _ since it pisses them off.  Zoe doesn't even look at me, just pours herself a bowl of cereal.

 

I catch her reaching for the milk, so I quickly grab it before she can, chugging it down, the liquid coating my throat, a nice feeling to combat my drymouth from my joint just minutes before.  I drop the carton, now empty, back to the counter, before I plop myself down at the table.

 

Taking a piece of toast, I grin satisfactorily as I hear Zoe’s shrill voice shriek with aggravation that I finished the milk.  Cynthia gives me a glare, Larry sticks to the paper.

 

As I eat the buttered bread, I kick Zoe under the table, keeping a poker face as she hisses from pain every two seconds, trying to pull away.  

 

At last, she gets up with a huff. “Well, I'm going, the bus is gonna be here in a minute.” 

 

Cynthia gives her a kiss on the cheek, Larry gives her a half-hearted wave, reading as he takes a sip of coffee.  Cynthia turns back to me, frowning. “Connor, come on, you're  _ not  _ staying home, okay?  If you want to get into a good school, you  _ need  _ to actually go to classes, and your attendance record from high school is going to be looked at, so you need to fix that.  Larry, tell him he needs to go!”

 

His eyes barely lift as he folds the paper over to read the other side.  “Connor, listen to your mother,” he drawls.

 

I roll my eyes, getting up.  “Like I have the chance at a fucking future.  Whatever, I'll go.” 

 

“That's the spirit!” Cynthia cheers, giving me a blinding smile, which I return with the dirtiest look I can muster.  Slipping on my shoes and grabbing my bag of homework I didn't do, I head out to catch the bus. 

 

The door slams behind me, and I don't bother to say goodbye.  As if I ever would. 

 

I manage to get the bus right before it pulls out.  Moving to the back, I ignore the stench of vomit and bubblegum, and stick in my earbuds, blasting music to drown out the chatter of the dumbfucks on the bus.  Watching the world pass through a grimy window, I feel the pill bottle in my pockets, the hard plastic pushing into my thigh. It softly rattles along with the jerky movements of the bus, thumping against my leg in time with the bumps in the road.

 

Once I arrive at school, I spend a solid two minutes battling my lock,  _ finally _ managing to yank open my locker.  Grabbing what I need, I slam my shoulder against it, locking it back up.  As I turn around, I notice Zoe with her stupid little friends, laughing and being idiots.  Pain twists inside me, a little flame.

 

_ Gross _ .  I shuffle to my first class, trying to ignore the fact that people are pointing at me.  Fuckin’ typical.

 

My first period is English literature, which might be the only class I actually enjoy.  I’ve always liked books, I guess because they don’t judge me, they’re quiet and they’re always around.  They’re comfortable. I have another couple of minutes before class actually starts, so I lean back in my seat, closing my eyes.

 

My eyes aren’t closed for even a minute when I feel an incessant tapping on my shoulder.  Cracking open an eye, I see that dork Jared Kleinman looking back at me. 

 

_ Ugh _ .  “The fuck do you  _ want _ , Kleinman?”

 

He smirks, pointing at my hair.  “Just felt like being friendly, wanted to compliment you on your wonderful ‘do, very,  _ school-shooter chic _ ,” Jared laughs, a loud, obnoxious laugh, right in my face.

 

Rolling my eyes, I turn my head away.  “God, so funny,” I mumble bitterly. “You oughta be a comedian or some shit.”

 

Other classmates who were listening in chuckle as well, and someone else calls out “freak!” from the back of the room, followed by more jeering laughter.

 

I wish I could say I was numb to this shit, but I’m not.  I just fucking pretend to be. So, I’ve made up my mind. I don’t do  _ shit _ .  Taking out my earbuds, I block them out until class starts, trying to ignore the tendrils of smoke inside me from the growing, burning fire. 

 

Once it does, I’m luckily able to immerse myself into a book, not having to think about that little dickhead and the bunch of other little dickheads in my class.  Just words on a page. Peaceful, quiet words on a page.

 

Next class is chemistry, which isn’t  _ that  _ bad.  Except my partner is the most talkative person on the face of this fucking planet.  Aside from Jared, of course. 

 

“Hi!” Alana chirps, waving to me as I slowly enter the classroom, a pit of dread in my stomach.   _ Wonderful _ .  I don’t reply, just let my bag fall to the ground with a loud thud.  Our assignment is to balance a bunch of equations in our partnerships.   _ Boring _ .

 

I scribble my name at the top of the paper beside Alana’s careful, rounded lettering.  Alana doesn’t seem to notice (or care) that I’m not doing anything, she just solves the problems while rambling on about running for class president, but then maybe she also wants to be treasury, but perhaps they might allow her to be both, depending on the size of the student government, blah, blah, blah.  I lose interest quickly, doodling on my hand with a pen.

 

“-and  _ that  _ is why I think we should start a kickstarter to raise money for the school to get a bigger library.  Reading is so important, don’t you think?” Alana looks over at me expectantly as she comes to an end of whatever the hell she was talking about.

 

“Uh-huh, yeah,” I agree half-heartedly.  “Sure. Yay, books.”

 

Her face lights up, and I wonder if she sensed the sarcasm in my voice or not.  Maybe she just wanted the affirmation. Whatever. 

 

I pick up my bag as she triumphantly places the worksheet on the desk of the teacher I didn’t bother to learn the name of.  I’ve spent so many days out of school so at this point it doesn’t even matter.

 

When I start to walk to my next class, I hear Jared’s stupid voice.   _ Fuck _ .

 

“Hi, freak!”

 

_ What… the fuck? _

 

I snap around, my eyes sharp.  “ _ What  _ did you call me, you little bitch?”

 

Jared seems unfazed, simply raising an eyebrow.  “I  _ said _ you’re a freak.  You’re always so  _ angry  _ and  _ mean _ , plus, you’re always by yourself, at least when you’re not slitting your wrists like some depressing indie song.”

 

_ What does that even-   _

 

Anger clouds my judgement, and next thing I know, my fingers are clenched around Jared’s collar, knuckles turning white.  “Shut the fuck up you shit!” 

 

Now he looks scared.  “H-hey, I was just kidding, okay?”

 

I laugh humorlessly.  “Yeah? Well, like I said earlier, you’re so funny, you should be a comedian, or consider a career in being an absolute dickhead, twenty-four seven.”

 

A crowd has formed, likely due to the fact that I am currently yell-spitting in his face while my hand firmly grasps the front of his shirt.  

 

“You all enjoying this?  Having fun, watching the  _ freak  _ freaking out?”  I’m shouting over the laughter, fucking tears pricking my eyes.  “Well, I’m so fucking happy that I’m so amusing!”  _ I’m burning, burning up inside.  I need to douse this fire already, but how _ …  _ how? _

 

I release my hold on Jared before shoving him, as well as a few others in the crowd before moving onto my next class.  I get another few feet before turning around. “And stay the fuck away from me! All of you! Fuck you all!”

 

Stomping into global history, I angrily pound my fist on my desk, earning a few glances from classmates.  “What the fuck are you all looking at?” I try to sound menacing, but my voice cracks. 

 

A few people snicker, but when the teacher comes in, everyone grows silent.  I feel their eyes on me as I put my head down, but not before I notice that the desk beside me is empty.   _ Huh _ .

 

Maybe fifteen minutes into class, I feel something hit the back of my head.  I whip around, annoyed, but nobody looks like they did it. Wincing, I rub my head.  A bit of yellow catches my eye on the floor. Upon closer inspection, it’s a wadded-up post-it note.   _ Must’ve been what hit me _ .  I pick it up, unraveling it.  

  
_ “Freak _ . _ ” _


	2. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor becomes more and more agitated, deciding that there's only one way for him to stop being the freak.

_That does it._ I stand up quickly, knocking my chair over. The teacher turns around, alarmed, as does nearly the rest of my class, but I don’t care. With a shove, I turn over my desk with a loud slam. Grabbing my bag, I hook it over my head before turning to the rest of the class. “You think I’m some sort of fucking joke? The fucking freak who’s gonna shoot up the school? You’re all fucking wastes of space. I fucking hate you all! Fuck every single one of you little assholes!” I’m heating up, the fire is taking over, starting to spread throughout my body, I feel it in my limbs.

“Connor-” My teacher starts, as he reaches for me, but I swerve out of his reach, kicking over another desk before I leave. It’s Jared’s.

I sprint down the hallway, racing towards the boy’s bathroom. I lock myself in a stall, currently unable to fight the tears streaming down my cheeks. _Stupid class! Stupid Jared with his stupid jokes!_ I’m about to reach into my bag when it hits me. I forgot to pack my razor. This hits me like a punch to the gut, and I sink to the floor, annoyed. I punch the stupid ground, making my knuckles bruised. _Good_.

 _Freak. Freak._ _Freak._ I realise I’m still gripping something in my hand, and as I unfurl my fingers, I see the word in ugly black lettering. _Freak_. Disgusted, I toss it, but it just smacks against the stall door, landing back in my lap. Clenching my fists to the point it leaves little red crescents in my palm, I notice my breathing becomes rapid. It’s like voices are surrounding me, the jeering of my stupid classmates, people calling me a freak, and surprisingly, sheer guilt as to how I’ve treated Zoe. It’s weird, because frankly, I’ve never given a shit about her feelings. Now, though, I regret it, everything I’ve done to her, every threat, every slap, every kick, every taunt. _Fire, fire, fire._

I remember the bottle of pills in my pocket, and an idea strikes. The world would just move on just fine if I disappeared from the face of the earth. Nobody would give a shit, nobody should. Wiping my face, I unlock the door, then get the hell out of there.

Once I leave school, I head straight for the park. I’ve always felt at peace there, nobody around to bother me. It’s a particularly hot day, and right now, I don’t care. If someone finds me dead, who cares that my arms look like I was mutilated by some psychotic surgeon. So, once I’m under a large oak, I shrug off my heavy gray sweatshirt, and I stare down at my arm. So many colours, so many shades of red and pink, tainting my skin. It’s rather beautiful, actually. Each scar a reminder of my worthlessness. Of how much I deserve this.

I don’t read the label, and I certainly don’t care about leaving any sort of bullshit behind like a goodbye note, a suicide letter, whatever. I just unscrew the lid, pour a few into my hand, and toss them in my mouth, swallowing them dry. Soon, I begin to feel sick, my world spinning, yet everything feels completely still. I pick at a few scabs, watching the blood, the shimmering red liquid, bright as rubies, contrasting against my skin. I take another pill. Two. Three. Four. Closing my eyes, I lean against the trunk of the tree. Maybe now I can escape those stupid voices in my head. _A dead freak is a good freak, right? Right._ The fire inside of me roars, my body burning up, burning, burning. These will douse the flames. Soon, they take effect, and I close my eyes. I’m numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, pretty short...  
> Or maybe that's a good thing, no need for an excessive amount of bad writing, right? Anyway, thanks for reading. 
> 
> Sorry...my mental health is just. I don't know. Sorry. I know it's not like I should be sharing that or whatever, but, hey, here we are! Sorry, sorry, okay, I'm going away now.
> 
> -Jared


	3. I failed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Connor wakes up, he thinks his situation can't possibly get any worse. Oh, how wrong he was.

I wake up to a blinding light.   _ Why the fuck am I awake?   _ Panic surges through my veins, and it hits me,  _ hard _ .   _ I wasn’t successful.  I’m still alive. I failed. _

 

Cynthia’s face hovers over mine, tears in her eyes.  Once my eyes have opened, a loud sob rips free from her throat and she envelops me in a tight hug.  “Connor!” She buries her face in my chest. “Oh, my baby, you’re alive, you’re  _ okay _ , thank god…”

 

Larry watches us in silence, his face in a neutral expression, arms crossed.  Zoe isn’t here, as if I care anyway.

 

I don’t hug Cynthia back, my mind is too preoccupied with the fact that I’m still alive.  And how much I fucking  _ hate  _ that.  “Ihavetopee,” I say suddenly, pushing her off of me.

 

“Oh! Of course.” She moves away.  “Wait, I’m not sure if you’re allowed to stand, let me get the nurse, he’s supposed to come since you’re awake and I-  _ Connor _ -”

 

Interrupting her, I stagger to my feet, ripping the IV’s out of my arm.  I’m pretty unsteady, so I grab the railing of the bed for support as I regain my balance before I make my way to the bathroom.

 

My feet are bare, so the ground feels icy cold beneath me.  Stumbling into the bathroom, I close the door, panting. Gripping the rim of the sink, I stare back at my hideous face.  I’m pale,  _ too  _ pale, my hair is greasy and hangs limply around my face.  There are heavy bags beneath my eyes, clashing with my ghostly complexion.  

 

Suddenly, I feel my stomach lurch, and I turn to the toilet, promptly emptying whatever remaining fluids I have.  I vaguely remember being forced to puke up the drugs I took when I got to the hospital, but I must’ve passed out again soon after.   _ Ugh _ .  I go back to the sink, rinsing out my mouth from the foul taste.  After spitting into the sink, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, which I notice is just as pale as my face, still decorated with the pen doodles.

 

I know I have to go back, so I slowly trudge to the room I was in.  This time, I just see Cynthia and a nurse. I get a look at his nametag, but I forget his name in seconds, it’s not like I care.

 

Cynthia smiles when I come in, and the nurse barely glances at me, just pointing at the bed.

 

Crawling back in, I stay still as he reattaches the IV’s.  

 

“You went into cardiac arrest,” he says simply, voice monotonous.   _ Well, that was blunt _ .  “Obviously we managed to resuscitate you, but you still have some lingering damage to your body.  You’re going to have a heart monitor, likely after you leave here for a couple of months just to be sure.”

 

“When am I out of here?” I interrupt, impatient with all of this.   _ I just want to be left alone _ . _  I want to finish off the job already _ .

 

He gives my mom a look, which they hold for a moment before he continues.  “Well,” he starts slowly. “About two months.”

 

_ No _ ….  _ No, this cannot be happening _ .  “What the fuck?!” I slam my fist on the side of the bed.  “Oh,  _ hell _ no, I am not staying in this shithole for any longer.”

 

Cynthia clutches my arm, tearful.  “Connor,  _ please _ , this is for your own safety.”

 

Growling, I smack her arm off of me, ignoring the look of hurt that flashes across her face.  “This is fucking ridiculous.”

 

The nurse, seemingly unfazed to my behaviour, perhaps he’s used to these sort of outbursts, continues with his stupid voice.  “We have a free therapy program held here, it’s two hours every day, excluding the weekends. If you’re interested, I can sign Connor up for that, it’s highly recommended.”  Noticing my face full of dread, he continues. “It’s not an extension to your stay here, and again, it is just a suggestion. You don’t have to-”

 

Before he can finish, Cynthia nods quickly.  “Yes! Yes, of course we would love to sign him up for it, wouldn’t it be great, Connor?”  She turns to me, a large smile on her face, practically  _ pleading  _ for me to agree with her.

 

“This is-” I cut myself off.   _ There’s no use, it’s gonna happen either way _ .  “Sure.”

 

Her eyes light up, and she looks back at the nurse.  “He’ll do it!”

 

He just nods, scribbling something down.  “There’s a meeting in three hours. It might be a good idea, get to meet everyone, get a feel for the group overall.”

 

_ Seriously?  I only get three more hours of freedom?  I thought I’d at least be able to wait another day _ . _  Shit _ .

 

“Okay.”  _ What else am I supposed to say here?  If I go along with everything, maybe I’ll get out of this dump sooner _ .

 

As the nurse exits, Cynthia gives me a kiss on the cheek.  “Oh, sweetheart, I was so worried, but I’m so happy you’re alive now, truly!”  

 

There’s a noise, and I see Larry there, with Zoe at his side.  Neither one have faces even  _ close _ to resembling Cynthia's, theirs are completely devoid of emotion.

 

“See?  We’re all so happy, aren’t we?”  I pretend not to notice as she mouths for the other two to agree.

 

Zoe stands a safe distance from me, nodding slightly.  “I’m glad to see that you’re alive, Connor.” Larry puts a hand on her shoulder.  “I was so scared I’d lose you, son. I love you.”

 

I notice that this was the first time I’ve heard him say he loves me in god knows how long.  But it’s also fake, isn’t it?  _ Ugh _ .  “Cut the crap,” I mumble.  “You don’t care about me, any of you.  None of you love me.”

 

Cynthia looks like she’s going to break down all over again, and Zoe and Larry just look at each other.

 

“Leave me alone!” I scream suddenly, pointing at the door.  “Go away!”

 

“Con-” Cynthia reaches for me, but I glare at her.  

 

“Go!”

 

Larry puts a hand on her back as he casts a look of  _ disappointment  _ back at me before they all leave.

 

Once they’re gone, I feel myself relax a bit, but I’m still tense.  My fingers clench around the side of the bed, so tight my knuckles turn white.  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself for no reason. “Fuck!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was... a bit lighter of a chapter. As always, let me know what you think.
> 
> -Jared


	4. Evan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Connor goes to his first therapy group, he meets a certain anxious blond...

The next three hours go by fast.  I nap for some of the time, eating a bit of stale crackers with cups of room temperature water, then fall back asleep.   _ Maybe I could just sleep the entire time I’m here to speed it up _ .  

 

There’s a knock at the door, and a new nurse enters this time, a woman.  She holds a folded pile of clothing, and as he comes closer, I recognise them as my own.  Silently, she hands them to me, and I take them. As I unfold them, I feel myself breathe quicker and quicker.  “Where…” I look up at her, almost fearful. “I don’t have my sweatshirt… I don’t have my sweatshirt!”

 

She shakes her head, frowning.  “I’m sorry, your mom brought along some clothes for you, but there weren’t any sweatshirts.”

 

I want to snap at her, but I feel too broken.   _ I’m gonna have to go into this stupid group with my arms exposed _ .  Of course, in the hospital gown, my arms are bared for all the world to see.   _ Cynthia must’ve seen them, so did Larry and Zoe.  She didn’t get mad. Why didn’t she get mad? _  I notice that the heat was gone before, but now it returned.  “Jacket?” I ask hopefully.

 

“No.”

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

The nurse looks like she wants to say something, but decides against it as she goes to the door.  “Get dressed, the meeting begins in five minutes. I’ll be outside here to show you to the room.”

 

There’s a click as the door closes.  I wait a moment before I begin to strip myself of the gown.  Looking down at me, I realise just how thin I really am; ribs showing easily.  Changing into my jeans and tee shirt, I begin to grow more and more uneasy. I  _ really  _ don’t want to do this.

 

Soon enough, I’m shown to the meeting room as I hug my arms subconsciously.  Before I enter, the nurse leans down slightly, her lips to my ear. “Relax,” she whispers, a hand on my back.  “It’ll be over soon.” 

 

Part of me wants to be grateful for her, but the other part of me is just too annoyed that I have to do this thing to even care.  That side wins over. Shoving her away, I fix her with a dirty look. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss.

 

She drops her hand, but doesn’t look hurt, just nods understandingly, which pisses me off even more.

 

Once I step into the room, I take in what I see.  There’s a circle of chairs, most of them full. Of course, there’s only like ten chairs in the first place.  I count again. Seven. Five of them are occupied. There’s a woman who I assume to be the leader, due to the lanyard around her neck, and four faces of various ages.  Only the woman looks at me, but I don’t think she’s judging me, she just gestures to the two empty seats quietly.

 

I sit in one, next to a girl who is toying with a friendship bracelet on her wrist.  She looks about fifteen. Looking back at the other faces, she’s probably the youngest.  There’s a man who looks about mid-twenties, another who looks like he could be thirty, a woman, perhaps forty-something, and the group leader, who I’d guess is maybe fifty?  I cross my arms, holding them to my chest.  _ This is gonna be hell _ .

 

A few minutes later, I hear the door creak open.  A vaguely familiar (or perhaps I’m just imagining it?) boy peers in, his eyes wide with fear.  The nurse with him gently nudges him inside, whispering something to him, which appears to soothe him slightly.  She gives him an encouraging smile and a nod, and he comes inside. I watch with mild interest as he scans the room, his eyes landing on the only empty chair; the one beside me.  He carefully sits himself down, and I notice he’s clutching a small squishy cactus thing.

 

He looks down at his shoes, which I notice are old and worn out, looking about a size too small.  

 

The group leader clears her throat, smiling at us all.  “Hello, my name is Helen.”

 

Everyone except for me and the boy beside me chorus “hi, Helen,” in unison.  

 

Helen turns to the woman beside her.  “Why don’t we go around saying our names and an interesting fact about ourselves, hm?”

 

The woman nods, running her hands down her skirt-covered thighs.  “Hi, I’m Karen, and I teach the freshman art history class!”

 

The others murmur “hello, Karen,” quietly.  She grins, and nods to the man beside her, who looks a bit younger than the other man there.

 

He scratches the back of his neck, looking frantically between us all.  “My name is Eric, and I have two dogs. Dogs, dogs, dogs…”

 

_ “Hello, Eric.” _

 

Friendship bracelet girl runs the pad of her forefinger across the colourful threads as she speaks. “Leslie, my name is Leslie, I’m Leslie… I like to draw.”  

 

_ “Hi, Leslie.” _

 

_ My turn.  Shit _ .  “I’m Connor.”  I take a pause.  “I read.”  _ This is so stupid _ .

 

_ “Hello, Connor.” _

 

My eyes slide over at the nervous mess next to me.  The boy is hugging his knees to his chest, looking like he’s in the middle of a panic attack or some shit, and he’s repeatedly squeezing the toy.  

 

There’s an awkward minute before Helen speaks up.  “Sweetheart? What’s your name?”

 

He looks up suddenly, as if he’d forgotten where he was.  “I-oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” His voice is squeaky yet soft, and I catch him wiping his hands on his khakis anxiously.  “I’m.. E-Ev-Evan.” Evan bows his head, looking back at the ground.

 

Another moment.

 

“And something interesting about yourself?” Helen prompts, giving him a patient smile.

 

“I like trees,” he mumbles, this time picking at his cuticles.

 

There’s a silence.  

 

The next person speaks up, but his voice is muted into the background as I’m watching Evan.  He looks like he wants the curl up and vanish into thin air, which I can honestly relate to. 

 

Helen speaks, jerking me out of my headspace.  “I would like us all to share whatever we like, our feelings, our thoughts.  Nobody is forced to speak, and remember, you are all here  _ voluntarily _ , so you can choose whatever you’d like to do.”   _ Voluntarily, my ass _ .

 

Karen starts to talk about her alcohol abuse, but I’m not listening.  Others speak, but Evan and I remain quiet.  _ Please, please let this just be over already _ .

 

We have a snack break, and Helen sets out a bunch of treats on the table.  I wait until the others go ahead before I take my pick. Evan hasn’t gotten up, he hasn’t even glanced up.  The kid looks like any second now he was going to start sobbing as he fidgets with his toy. 

 

I grab a paper plate, loading it with Oreos, Cheetos, and a generous pile of M&M’s.  I haven’t had junk like this in  _ ages _ , other than pizza.  Cynthia usually makes us eat gluten-free vegan shit, and we never have anything with artificial flavouring in our kitchen; heaven forbid we have high fructose corn syrup or extensive amounts of sodium… There are also bottles of various drinks, so I pour a cup of Pepsi to the rim, carefully sipping it as I make my way back to my seat.

 

Sitting down, I cross my legs to form a sort of table to balance my food on as I set the cup on the ground.

 

I’m nearly finished with my Cheetos when I notice Evan’s eyes flickering to my plate, then away.

 

Raising an eyebrow, I nudge the plate towards him.  “You want something? I can get you some food over there if you like?”   _ Why am I being nice to this kid? _

 

Startled, Evan looks up at me.  “I-I’m sorry, no, no it’s fine, th-thank you, Connor.”

 

“Hm.  Suit yourself.”  I pop a green M&M in my mouth, sucking on the candy, waiting as the hard coating dissolves, enjoying the sweet chocolate as it melts on my tongue.   _ Mmmm _ …. 

 

“I’m Evan!” He says after a moment.  “Oh! But I suppose you already knew that, did-didn’t you?  Sorry.”

 

That makes me smile.  “Yeah, I know. What’s that?”  I gesture towards the cactus as I toss a few more candies in my mouth.

 

“What’s that?”  Evan mumbles to himself, then shakes his head, offering it to me.  “It-it’s like a… a comfort object, I guess? Comfort object, that’s a bit dumb, isn’t it?  My friend gave it to me a while ago, when we were younger… I’ve sort of just held onto it for a while?  Well, he’s not  _ really  _ my friend, he’s more of a family friend, I think he just talks to me for his car insurance… sorry I’m talking a lot, I’m sorry, I’ll just shut up, I’m sorry.”  He ducks his head, pulling the toy back to himself, hunched up.

 

Before I can stop myself, I reach for it.  “Can I see? It’s kinda... cool.”

 

“Kinda cool,” he repeats thoughtfully.  “Sure.” He hands it to me. 

 

As soon as it touches my hands, I feel like I don’t deserve to hold it, it’s too precious to him.  I don’t know shit about cacti, so I say the first thing on my mind. “You say he’s only friends with you because of his car insurance, huh?  That’s pretty fucked up.”

 

Evan shrugs, watching as I gently cradle the squishy toy.  “It’s okay, he’s the only friend-  _ family friend _ \- I have, so it doesn’t really matter why he talks to me in the first place.”

 

_ Sheesh _ .  He looks pretty sad, so I hand the cactus back to him.  

 

Silently, he takes it back, holding it to his chest.  “I like… I like the designs on your hand,” he whispers.  

 

“Huh?”  I look down at my left hand, the pen marks slightly faded.  “It’s just some dumb doodles, nothing special.”

 

Without warning, he places a hand on my arm to get a closer look.  His hand is warm, a bit sweaty, though. Suddenly, something inside me snaps.   _ He doesn’t care about the stupid doodles, he’s looking at my scars, isn’t he?! _

 

Angrily, I yank my arm back, causing him to look at me with surprise.  “I-, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you, I-”

 

“Shut up!”  I stand up, the plate of food flying off my lap.  Shoving him, he topples over, landing on his back helplessly, eyes welling with tears, full of terror.  He puts a hand, almost protectively, over what I notice, for the first time, is a broken arm. The squishy cactus rolls out of his hand, the one that is now clutching the injured arm.   _ How didn’t I notice the big white cast? _

 

“Connor, I-” Evan tries, but his voice catches.

 

Helen has noticed, as well as the other group members, but I don’t care.  I feel like I’m a billion degrees as I push over my chair. “Stop fucking staring at me!”  Ignoring Helen’s voice, I stomp out of there. On my way out I feel something beneath my boots.  Curious, I lift my foot to see a flattened and now dirty cactus.  _ Whatever _ .  The door slams behind me after I leave, nobody following me.

 

_ Get me out of here already! _  I try to fight the tears in my eyes as I hurry back to my room, getting into bed.  I sit there, crying, shaking angrily.  _ Why did I speak to him?  He’s just like everyone else, wants to make fun of the fucked up freak _ .   _ Nothing ever changes _ .  

 

Before I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but think about how much I wish I could cut, but of course I’m not allowed to have anything sharp in my possession, which fucking  _ sucks _ .  One day down, a bazillion more to go.

 


	5. Nobody notices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor can't help but focus on this guy, surprised by the fact that he actually cares so much.

The next day, I sleep as much as possible, except for when I’m told to eat, or if I have to use the bathroom. Nurses suggest for me to go into some of the other rooms to play games, but I have absolutely zero interest in playing chess with a bunch of old farts. Cynthia and Larry come by to visit once, and it’s all the same. Cynthia is teary, Larry is stoic, standing off to the side. _Whatever_.

Of course, that time rolls around again. _Fucking therapy group_.

This time, I had Cynthia bring along some of my sweatshirts, which automatically make me feel far more comfortable.

I trudge into the group, this time the last one there. This time, I’m wedged between Eric and Karen. Evan is directly across from me, and he stays quiet the entire time. He doesn’t take any snacks, unlike the rest of us.

Karen still talks about how she was an alcoholic, and how she regrets the fact that she is never a good enough mom for her children, nine-year old twin boys. She gets teary at this point, but declines the tissues Helen offers, along with a sympathetic face.

Eric just talks about his fucking dogs, and Leslie says how she started to cut herself because she was sexually assaulted a couple of months ago.

Then the guy who I didn’t catch the name of yesterday begins to talk. He talks about how he started to turn to drugs when he left his wife and daughter four years ago, and how guilty he feels. How much it hurt when he tried to reach out to his wife and kid after all these years, but his ex got mad, how he isn’t even allowed to see his daughter because he used to abuse the wife. He gets really emotional, and I think it’s all a load of crap, but suddenly my attention shifts when I hear the quiet scrape of a chair against the linoleum tile.

I look up in surprise to see Evan mumbling an apology and something about having to use the bathroom. He leaves in a hurry as the other guy continues talking. For some reason, I don’t listen to this guy anymore, but my eyes are fixed on the door, waiting for Evan to come back.

_Why should I even care? Yeah, he looked a bit shaken up, maybe the guy hit a nerve, resurfacing some bad memories or whatever, but Evan- no, Evan wasn’t staring, was he? That was just my fucking paranoia, wasn’t it… shit._

Soon, Evan comes back, slipping in the room nearly undetected; me being the only one who notices.

He catches me looking, then I see him reaching for something in his pocket, only to draw it out empty. _Of course. His fucking squishy thing._

I look over to the trash bin in the corner, and I spot a familiar bit of green. _I messed up really bad, didn’t I? Shit._

As soon as the group ends, I’m the first one out of there, barely catching Helen’s words, telling us to wear comfy clothes tomorrow; we’re gonna try some yoga. Stupid yoga… I remember when Cynthia had a whole phase a few years ago.

When I head back to my room, I hunt around desperately for a nurse. I find one, and grab their arm.

The woman whose arm I took a hold of turns around with surprise and confusion. “Can I help you?”

“I need to go out!” I exclaim urgently. “Please, I, I really… I need to get something.”

She frowns, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to. May I ask what it is you’re looking for? Because maybe I can get it for you?”

Huffing impatiently, I clench my fists. “No, no, I need to go…”

The nurse looks worried, so I plaster on a fake smile. “It’s okay, thanks anyway!”

Appearing relieved, she walks off, and I wander back to my room. _What can I do now?_

As I make my way back, something catches my eye. There’s a large bin near the sign to the children’s wing, so I come closer to inspect it.

A paper sign is taped to the bin: “FREE! Donated toys for the children!”

Lifting the lid of the bin, I root through dozens of plush animals, rather similar to Zoe’s collection. I’m about to select a rather cute rabbit when I find…. _could it be?_ Triumphantly, I pull out a small cactus plush with a little face that’s supposed to look “kawaii”, but it’s really creepy as shit. Tugging out the toy causes a bunch more to spill, so I clean those up as I squeeze the toy into my pocket.

Once I get back to my room, I toss the toy back and forth between my hands. _Why did I even get this? This is so stupid. Of course, it’s supposed to be a gift for Evan, to make up for blowing up at him, but…. seriously?_

Then it hits me. Evan. _Evan Hansen_. _He’s_ the kid who wasn’t there the other day in school, missing from the desk beside me global history. _Of course_. I wonder if he has any idea of who I am. He didn’t seem to know who I was yesterday, but then again, I didn’t recognise him at first, either. Not that I’m much to remember, anyway. By this time I should’ve disappeared, like Evan from class. Nobody talking about it, nobody noticing, nobody caring. Just vanishing into thin air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at Connor, wanting to make amends~ 
> 
> Super grateful for everyone reading, commenting, and giving kudos :)
> 
> -Jared
> 
> Edit: I tried to fix my italics but my iPad is being annoying, oops...


	6. Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gives Evan his gift, along with an apology. He is developing a crush for sure...

The next morning, I get up early, getting ready quickly.  And then it hits me. I have _no_ idea where Evan’s room is.  When I leave my room, I bump into Helen.

 

Helen gives me a kind smile.  “Oh, hello, sweetheart!”

 

She moves as if to leave, but I clear my throat. “Hi, um, I was wondering where Evan’s room is?  From group…”

 

Her smile widens and nods.  “Of course! Oh, I’m so glad you two made up!”

 

 _Yeah, “made up”_...

 

“Room 146, over there!”  She points around the corner, and I don’t bother to say a word in thanks, I just go.

 

Arriving at the room, I knock, only to realise… _I have no fucking clue what I’m doing_.  And just like that, the door opens.  

 

A blonde woman opens, and briefly I think I have the wrong room, but then I see over her shoulder, still asleep in bed, is Evan.

 

 _Here goes nothing, I guess_ .  “Hi, I’m, uh, _friends_ with Evan, from the therapy group,” I say, sticking out my hand.  “My name is Connor.”

 

She beams and shakes my hand.  “I didn’t know Evan had a _friend_ !  I’m so happy to hear that!  I was just going to step up to get some coffee, and then I actually have a _shift_ , ugh!”  She makes a grossed out face, then laughs.  “I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Heidi, Evan’s mom.  Feel free to wait around until he wakes up! I ended up falling asleep by his bed over in that chair there, ouch!”  Heidi chuckles, rubbing the back of her shoulder. “I hope to see you again soon, sweetheart!” She looks back at Evan with a bit of a sad smile on her face.  “I know you must not be friends for very long, but… he could really use one.” I pretend I don’t see the tears in her eyes as she waves to me before leaving.

 

Once the door closes with a soft click, I make my way to the chair that Heidi must’ve pulled up to the side of the bed.  

 

Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m sitting there, _staring_ at him.  In all honesty, I’d be a complete idiot if I didn’t acknowledge just how _cute_ he looks.  I won’t even deny it, he’s absolutely adorable.  His pale pink lips are parted slightly, hushed breaths coming out of them.  Dirty blond hair curls over his forehead, and as I lean in closer, I can see a bit of stubble, which I find honestly… pretty hot.   _Wait_ . _What the fuck am I doing?!_ I jerk backwards, shocked at myself for being drawn in by that gentle, peaceful face.  I’m being a creep, watching this guy I barely know as he sleeps!

 

He stirs slightly, causing me to jump.   _Please don’t wake up and think I’m a weirdo, please, please_.

 

I breathe a sigh of relief after a few moments when it seems he has gone back to sleep.

 

Another couple of minutes go by in silence, and I listen to the quiet ticking of the clock far above the bed.

 

When I look back at Evan’s face, I notice his eyelashes are fluttering open, revealing a pair of blue eyes.  He groans softly, rubbing his face, blinking slowly. Then his head turns, eyes fixed on me. There’s a second of us just looking at each other before his eyes widen, and he sits up quickly, jumping back.  “C-Connor!” Evan sputters before looking around the room, as if in a panic. _Well, of course he’s nervous, dumbfuck, you yelled at him for no damn good reason!  Not to mention, you're in his room!_

 

I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.  “I’m sorry.. for- for the other day, I mean.”

 

“ _You’re_ sorry?”  A small laugh escapes me as I shake my head incredulously.  “Why the fuck are _you_ sorry?  I was a complete dickhead to you!   _I’m_ the one who should be apologising, not you!”

 

He ducks his head, shrugging, talking to himself.  “You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” Evan looks back at me.  “Wh-why are you here? Sorry, that came out really rude, I just… I mean, why… why m-me?”

 

I’m almost put off by the slight blush tinting his cheeks from nerves.   _Almost_.  “I..”. I reach into my pocket, fishing out the small plushie.  “A peace offering?” I hold it out for him, attempting to give him a nice smile.  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I’m sorry.”

 

Evan looks back and forth between the little cactus and my face, scanning for any signs that I might be joking.  “Are-are you sure?”

 

I nod, patiently extending my hand towards him.  “Yeah, yeah. I know it’s not as cool as your old one, I’m sorry about crushing it, and I know it doesn’t mean as much because it’s not from your friend, but..”

 

He shakes his head, taking it from me with careful, tentative fingers.  “Thank you, Connor,” he says softly. “It’s really cute.”

 

“May I stay?” I ask.   _Why do I want to stay here with him?_

 

There’s a pause, and Evan looks like he’s still waiting for me to to get mad at him, but eventually he gives me a slight nod.  “Yeah, sure.”

 

I want to move closer to him, even slightly, but he looks far too scared of me, so I keep my distance.  Furrowing my brow, I point towards his arm. “What happened?”

 

Immediately, he grows tense, his face becomes ashen.   _Nice going, Connor_.  

 

“IwasclimbingatreeandthenIfell,” he whispers quickly, his fingers clenched around the plush cactus.

 

I decide not to press further, already feeling bad for bringing it up, but his demeanor definitely indicates there’s far more to the story, something _bad_.  “Okay.”

 

He opens his mouth, then it snaps shut, and he bites his lower lip, looking away.  

 

 _Huh?_ “Uh, what’s up?”

 

“What’s up…” Evan shyly points to my hand.  “I… sorry.”

 

I understand immediately, and I smile.  I place my hand on the bed rail. “You like the doodles?”

 

“Mhm.”  He lifts a finger, poised over my hand, glancing at me for permission before he begins to gently trace the shapes.  For some reason, I feel my heart race at his touch, and I stare at the floor to try and get rid of the heat I feel in my face.  

 

“Do you have a Sharpie?”

 

His voice snaps me back to reality, and I look up in confusion.

 

“A-a Sharpie.  I was wondering if you wanted to sign my cast.. nobody has yet.  You don’t have to, of course,” he assures me quickly. “Just… if you want.”

 

The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.  “Your friend didn’t sign it? The one who gave you the squishy cactus?”  I wince as soon as I finish.

 

A sad look crosses his face, and he shakes his head slowly.  “N-no, we, we aren’t friends, remember? _Family_ friends,” he clarifies.  

 

_Right._

 

“I see.  But yeah, sure, I’ll sign it.”

 

Evan’s face lights up.  “I- I mean, are you sure?”

 

As my answer, I get up, hunting around the room.  I find a Sharpie on a counter on top of a stack of post-its.  I pluck it from the pile, and make my way back to the bed.

 

Instead of sitting in the chair, I automatically sit beside him in the bed, and he scootches over to make room.  I carefully take his arm in mine, tugging off the Sharpie’s cap with my teeth. Scrawling my name in big letters, I draw a little star inside the “O”s of my name, causing Evan to giggle what must be the cutest fucking shit I have ever heard.

 

“You-you made it so big,” he observes, going over the “C” with a finger.  He doesn’t seem upset about that, no, more amused.

 

I smirk, nodding.  “Well, of _course_ I did, I want people to see your arm and know we’re friends.”   _…. Friends. Shit._

 

“F-friends?”  Evan squeaks, blushing, reaching for the stuffed cactus.

 

“Well, yeah.”  I try to play it off cool.  “Seems like we both could use a friend, right?”

 

Evan ponders this for a moment.  “We both could use a friend… wait.  I, are you sure you want to be friends with _me_?  I’m… not exactly ‘friend’ material, I guess.”

 

Sighing, I put my hand on his healthy arm without a second thought.  “Of _course_ I do,” I reassure him.  When I lift my hand, I notice something, which makes my stomach churn.   _He also has scars_ … _how come I didn’t notice those before?  I guess I must not pay attention to detail, huh?_

 

As soon as he catches me looking, Evan pulls his arm close, quickly tossing the blanket over it, and turns away, a slight frown on his face.  

 

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

 

“It’s fine,” he whispers.  “It’s fine.”

 

Reaching closer, I find myself nearly hugging him, already in bed with him.  “Evan, I-”

 

“Evan!”

  
I feel my blood boil, then turn to ice, and back again.   _Kleinman?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny bit of fluff? Sorry, it’s quite short...
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> Sorry, I don’t know what else to put here today...
> 
> -Jared


	7. Family friends.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes trouble...
> 
> Jared comes along for a visit, surprising both Connor and Evan.

Quickly, I pull away from Evan, who is staring at Jared with surprise.  “What are you even  _ doing  _ here?” I ask him, voice dripping with venom.   _ Though, I suppose, he could easily ask me the same question _ .  

 

Jared ignores me, heading straight for Evan.  “Hey, acorn, how’re you feeling?”

 

Evan manages a weak smile, looking back at him.  “I-I’m alright, thanks… but you really didn’t need to come visit me, Jared!”

 

“Well of course I had to, I’m your _ best friend _ !” I could’ve  _ sworn _ Jared gave me a smug look as he said the last words.

 

“Best friend?  I- I thought you and I, we, wait…” Evan looks confused, cocking his head. 

 

Jared’s eyes drift down towards the cactus in Evan’s hand.  “Hey, that’s cute! Where’d you get it?”

 

Evan’s face lights up, and he points happily to me.  “Connor gave it to me! The one you gave me, um, it got ruined.  Sorry. Oh, but look! He also signed my cast, see?”

 

There’s a brief moment where I feel proud, that face Evan gave me, how grateful he was, plus the fact that he didn’t say I was the one to ruin it- but then I fully register his words.   _ “The one you gave me _ . _ ”  No fucking way _ .   _ Could  _ Jared  _ be Evan’s “family friend”?   _

 

When Jared looks at me, it makes me feel even cockier, and I point to Evan’s cast.  “Say, Jared, since you’re his best friend and all, why haven’t you signed his cast?”

 

“Oh, he doesn’t have to- he already said he-”

 

However, I know Jared, and he is  _ not  _ one to show any sort of weakness.  “I didn’t have a marker with me,” he says smoothly.   _ Yeah, right _ .  

 

Evan, on the other hand, seems completely oblivious to the tense energy between Jared and I, and he’s grinning like an idiot as Jared writes his name, rather messily, above mine.  There’s a slight twinge of hurt I feel in my belly when he draws a little heart next to his name.

 

Much to both Evan’s surprise (and my own, not to mention a bit of disgust…), Jared wraps his arms around Evan, giving him a tight hug.  “Feel better, acorn, okay?”  _ And… did he fucking just-  _ there’s a small noise, and I watch with disbelief as Jared pecks a quick kiss to Evan’s forehead.   _ What the actual fuck?! _

 

Jared catches my eye and winks, grinning from ear to ear as he claps a hand on the shoulder of the intensely blushing boy.   _ I swear to god, I’m gonna slaughter this smug son of a bitch one day _ .  He makes his way over to me, leaning down to whisper in my ear.  “See you later,  _ freak _ .”

 

If Evan wasn’t right there in the room with us, I’d have my hands around his stupid little neck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things!  
> 1) I don't think Jared actually likes Evan here, just kisses him because he can tell that Connor is crushing super duper hard (even if Evan is still mega oblivious to it...)  
> 2) Wow, Jared really can be a jerk, huh?  
> 3) Sorry, super short :/  
> 4) (I'll post this to my other fics, too) but if you ever wanna chat or something, I dunno, my email address is cronchmaster@gmail.com :3  
> 5) Updates may start to slow (also on other fics, so, sorry...) due to a couple of reasons... ahem, anyway, thanks for reading!


	8. All we see are stars for forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two spend time together, and Evan opens up to Connor.

As Jared leaves, Evan excitedly waves to him, a dorky little smile on his face.   _Does he not see that Jared is a dick?_

 

“I should go,” I mutter, suddenly not feeling very well.  

 

“Oh.”  Evan looks disappointed, staring back down at the cast.  “Right.”

 

 _Shit_ .  My heart shatters at how sad he looks, so I make up my mind.  “Well, there’s no harm in staying just a _little_ longer, right?”

 

“You don’t- if you have to go, I’m not stopping… are you sure?”

 

 _Does he ever think about his own feelings?  How can he live a life worrying about how other people are feeling?_ Or maybe it’s just hard to imagine for me, living a life where I don’t give a shit about _anyone_.  “Yeah.”

 

So, I stay in the bed with him and we talk for another hour or so.  Neither of us want to leave the room, so it would seem. It’s surprising, I actually feel quite relaxed in his presence.  It’s as if the fire is being doused by him, but he’s also igniting a _different_ sort of fire inside me.  

 

Evan points to the stars inside my name in his cast.  “I like those. You, you also drew stars on your hand,” he observes.

 

Glancing down at my hand, I realise he’s right.  “Huh, yeah.”

 

He sighs, getting a dreamy look on his face.  “Stars are really pretty, aren’t they?”

 

 _So are you_ , I catch myself thinking.  “Yeah.” I reach over to grab the Sharpie again, and give his cast a couple of carefully drawn stars, causing him to giggle.   _Shit, that's adorable!_  “You know, the stars we see in the sky, most of em aren’t even there anymore.  Imagine that, seeing something so beautiful, but it’s all that lingers, the remains of someone.  That star could’ve been a real jerk, but at least when he died, he left something pretty behind for kids to look up at and make out under, eh?”

 

Evan considers this, chewing his lip.  “What if when you burn out, you don’t leave anything behind?  Like, you spend so much time being this _thing_ made of heat, but when you explode and die, there’s nothing left for them to remember you.  Nothing left to remind people that there once was a star.”

 

We sit in silence after that, both of us lost in thought.  “I guess we’re both a bit like stars, huh?” I say after a bit, not even looking at him.

 

He doesn’t even have to ask what I mean; we both know.  “Mhm,” he agrees quietly.

 

Without thinking, I fumble for his hand, which he takes after a moment of hesitation.  “I’m sorry I yelled at you the other day,” I say, not even knowing where that came from.

 

Evan doesn’t say anything for a moment, then nods slowly.  “I know.” He turns to me with what I know from experience as a fake smile.  Something I’m all too used to having on my own face. “It’s fine!”

 

“Hm.”  My mind drifts to Jared for some reason, and I start to feel nauseous all over again.  “So, you’re friends with Jared, huh?”

 

“Oh!  Ye-yeah.”  The corners of Evan’s mouth lift up in a genuine smile as he looks down at his lap, twisting his sheet between his fingers.  “I-I wonder if he actually considers me a friend, though. No, he doesn’t, he- well, he said we were best friends, so maybe…”

 

 _Of course.  Jared is fucking playing with his feelings, dragging him along_.  “Listen, if he keeps changing how he feels about you like that, he’s not a good person to be around!” I snap, suddenly very angry, but I don't know why.

 

Evan stares at me with surprise.  “I.. well, I mean, I’m sure he…”

 

 _Jesus Christ_ .  My hand grips tighter around his.  “Can’t you see it? He’s toying with you, you don’t deserve someone who one day barely looks at you, and the next acts like he would take a bullet for you!”  As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I realise two things. One: this is absolutely none of my business; _why do I even give a shit?_ Two: I’m the exact same way.  

 

He flinches, and gently tugs his hand free.  “Yeah, he’s a bit of an ass, but he’s the only friend I have who puts up with my stupid crap,” Evan mumbles.

 

“He doesn’t even know you!” I exclaim exasperatedly.   _Okay, Connor. Now would be a_ really _good time to stop_.

 

“And you do?” Evan challenges, giving me a pointed look.

 

Frowning, I try to fight off my urge to yell in his face.  “I know what it’s like to feel invisible, alone, like nothing you do matters, like nobody would even care if you just disappeared one day!  Just, vanish, into fucking thin air!”

 

Tears appear in his eyes, and I think I’ve gone too far, but next thing I know, his arms are around me, his face pressed into my chest.

 

He springs back quickly, and I briefly panic that I did something wrong, but he covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” comes his muffled voice.  “I really-I know you probably don’t like _touching_ , I just..”

 

Before he gives himself a fucking heart attack, I firmly pull him into my arms, rubbing his back as he sobs into my shoulder.  It’s hard to ignore how damn soft his hair feels tickling against my cheek, how warm he is in my arms. The way he’s clinging to me, like he’s relying on me to make sure everything is alright, it makes my face grow hot.  The new fire inside me is _definitely_ roaring.

 

When he pulls away after a long, pleasant hug, he sniffles, wiping his eyes.  “I, um… I’m sorry I’m this way. Like, I’m sorry you have to put up with this.”

 

I shake my head, quietly shushing him.  “Hey, no, it’s alright, I’m sorry I shouted at you like that.”

 

He just shrugs, then instinctively reaches for my hand, circling a finger around a little triangle.  The doodles are nearly gone now, it’s been a few days now, after all, but I find it cute how he likes them.  Maybe I’ll go over them later.

 

Evan slowly pulls a finger away.  “I’m sorry, I really, well, I, I like to just…it soothes me, I guess?  I didn’t, I didn’t mean to just be like, running my fingers all over you or something, heh…”

 

“It’s fine.”  It’s more than fine, really, I don’t know what it is, but something feels all sunny inside me knowing that something as simple as dumb pen doodles makes him calm.  “You can, I mean, you don’t have to stop, if, if you like to…” _Jesus, I’m stuttering now?_

 

However, the look on his face is so worth it, and I close my eyes as I feel his light touches dancing across the back of my hand.

 

“I like the stars a lot,” Evan whispers after a couple of seconds.  “I, I’m not sure why, but I do… maybe because of what you said. Um, when I was younger I actually used to like to look up at the stars?  Yeah, Jared and I would have sleepovers, we would go in my backyard, or, or his, with sleeping bags, and look at the stars. We would pretend we were camping, and, like, sometimes we would just lie there and tell each other stories.”

 

_Jared sounds like he would’ve been good company as a kid, what turned him into the most annoying person on Earth?_

 

As if to answer my question, Evan continues.  “But then Jared made new friends, when he would go away to summer camp?  I would believe we were looking at the same stars every night, but I don’t think he was bothering with the sky.  He had his friends to keep him company, after all.”

 

Looking down at my wrist, an idea strikes.  “Close your eyes,” I instruct, and he obeys without question.  Quickly, I slide off one of my bracelets. I pick up his hand gently, and I almost get distracted by how _right_ it feels in mine, the slightly calloused parts of his fingers, the soft skin of his palm.  At last, I come to my senses, and carefully put the bracelet on his wrist, rotating it so the charm is facing up.  “Open em.”

 

Evan blinks a few times, then looks down, a big smile spreading on his face.  “I, oh, this is, this is so pretty, but I, I can’t just-”

 

“Hey, no, it’s okay, it’s for you,” I say, trying to reassure him.   _The truth is, I bought it ages ago from some street vendor for like five bucks_.

 

He looks uncertain, but happy.  Gingerly, he touches the star charm, then traces the thin black leather strands braided to hold the charm in place.  “It’s, it’s like I have a little star with me at all times,” he says breathlessly.

 

“Mhm!” _Fuck, he’s so cute_.  “Here, hold on.”  I lean closer, tightening the cords so it fits snug on his wrist.  “There, now it won’t fall off.”

 

There’s a solid two seconds where I’m close to him, nearly in his lap, but I move back, knowing I’m being weird.

 

“Thank you, Connor!” Evan exclaims suddenly, throwing his arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.  “I love it so much!”

 

I’m startled, but I hug back, letting myself get buried in this sensation, warmth and happiness.  “Of course.” I realise I’ve been holding him for a bit longer than necessary, so I let go, and he grins.  

 

“It’s, it’s like I’ll always have you with me,” Evan murmurs, holding his arm up so the star catches in the light.  He blushes after that, his words sinking in to the both of us. “I, I meant, so, so I h-have a friend who, I mean, I...uh…”

 

Giving him a smirk, I nod.  “Yeah, I know what you meant.”

 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to post a somewhat long update since I figured my mental health would kind of hold me back from doing things I love these days meaning less updates.... anyway..
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter! 
> 
> As always, feel free to comment, give kudos, even just reach out and say hi, draw me some fanart for this little fic or something, do nothing at all and just read this because honestly that's already amazing and makes me smile....., whatever you feel like <3
> 
> -Jared


	9. The card game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan play a game of cards, but Connor can't help but try and get Evan to talk.

[few days later]

 

After our dumb group,  Evan taps my shoulder before I leave.  “That- that was fun,” he mumbles, quirking a smile.   _ Huh?  Oh, right, the yoga _ .  Truth be told, I didn’t do much of it, I spent a while checking Evan out as he stretched, making sure I was positioned close enough to watch him.  As much as I really don’t want to admit it, I’m into him,  _ really _ into him.  

 

He looks down at the floor as we stand there, still in the middle of the meeting room, picking at his cuticles.  “Um, I was wondering if you wanted… if you wanted to hang out with me in my room?” His head snaps up, alarmed. “W-we don’t have to, of course, but… well, I don’t like the common area, too many people.  I-I have a deck of cards if you wanted to play? Or we could-”

 

“Sounds good,” I interrupt,  _ casually _ putting a hand on his shoulder briefly.

 

“Awesome!” Evan chirps, his eyes glittering.   _ Cute _ .

 

He turns to leave, and I notice something fluttering out of his pocket.  “Oh, you dropped-”

 

“Hm?”  Evan turns around, confused.

 

“Never mind.”  I slip it into my pocket.   _ I’ll give it back to him later _ .

 

We sit across from each other on his bed as he deals out hands for go fish.  I couldn’t help but notice that Evan didn’t eat anything at group, so this time, before we headed out, I quickly snatched some snacks without him noticing.  

 

I empty out my pockets, producing little packets of Goldfish, gummy bears, a Capri-Sun, and a few Oreos wrapped in a napkin.  

 

Upon the sight, Evan laughs, looking back at my face and the food.  “You- you’re like a squirrel, hoarding food!”

 

I laugh along with him, then push the pile of food towards him.  “I noticed you didn’t eat anything, actually, so I saved these for you.”   _ Great.  Now you sound like you’ve been watching him _ …  _ well, you  _ have _ , but… fuck. _

 

However, to my luck, he doesn’t seem put off by that, just shakes his head, picking up his cards. “Saved these… Th-that’s very sweet of you, but I just, I wasn’t hungry, so…”

 

“Oh?  When’s the last time you ate then?  A big lunch?”

 

“Something like that,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on his cards.

 

Frowning, I lean forward, plucking his cards from his hands, and setting them face down beside him.  He doesn’t protest, just keeps his head down like a guilty child who was disciplined by his parents for misbehaving.  “Evan…” I put a finger beneath his chin, lifting his face so that he looks at me,  _ ignoring  _ the fact how it would be the kind of move someone would make right before they’d kiss.  “When’s the last time you ate?”

 

He offers me a slight shrug.  “It, it doesn’t matter, let’s just- just play, okay?”

 

I pull away, sighing.  “Please, at least have some juice?”

 

There’s a moment of stillness, and then he reluctantly reaches for it.  He’s finished with it in seconds. 

 

I glance down at my cards, seeing three queens, a ten, a four, and two threes.  

 

“You go first,” Evan suggests, not looking at me.

 

“Any queens?”

 

His head shakes no, and I pluck a card from the pile.   _ A five.  Damn.  _

 

Evan hums to himself as he scans his cards.  “Three?”

 

Huffing with mock annoyance, I hand over the cards, which makes the ends of his lips lift slightly.

 

He gathers his cards, and sets down a neat pile of cards.  “Okay, um, any sixes?”

 

“Go fish.”

 

Another card goes into his hand, and he grimaces.

 

I look down at my cards, but I’m not really taking anything in.  “Jared kissed you, is that something you two… do?”

 

A perplexed look appears on his face.  “No, he’s never done that before. It was nice, though.”

 

_ Nice _ .  My stomach churns with jealousy.  “Right. Yeah. Do you have any fours?”

 

He slowly tugs out a card from his hand, giving it to me.  

 

Instead of asking for another card, I look at his cast, noticing how since I saw him this morning, he’s put on a sweatshirt, covering up his scarred arm, the sleeve bunched up above where the cast is.  

 

“Does  _ Jared _ know what happened with your arm?  Aside from the obvious falling part?”  I can’t help but spit out his name like it’s something foul on my tongue, but I doubt Evan even notices.

 

Evan tightens his grip on the cards, and I watch as he creases them slightly with his fingers.  “No.”

 

I decide to press further.  “Does he know why you’re in here?  Does it have to do with your arm?” I lean closer, inspecting his face for telltale signs.  I know I’m overstepping it.

 

“No.  No, he does not.  Nobody knows, and I’d appreciate it if you please stopped asking about it.”  His voice is clipped, and I can hear a bit of emotion in his voice. “Ask for another card, please.”

 

The card game doesn’t matter to me anymore.  I don’t think it ever really did. To either of us.  Placing my cards down, I put a hand on his leg. “Evan-”

 

“Ask me for a card, ask me, ask me!”  His voice gets higher, panicky as he begs me to change the subject.

 

_ He can’t avoid this forever _ .  “Evan, it’s only gonna get worse-”

 

“I don’t, I don’t  want to talk about it!” He shoves the cards away, causing them to fly all over, settling down, as if it slow motion, fluttering to the ground.  “I’m just a stranger! Why are you so obsessed? I, I-I don’t want to talk about it!” Evan puts his hands over his ears, his nails digging into his scalp as he squeezes his eyes shut.  "St-stop it, just, just let me go..."  After a few seconds, he opens his eyes, as if he’s seeing everything for the first time. He takes in the scene, the mess of cards I didn’t bother to pick up. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, turning pink.  “I don't know what came over me. I, I ruined the g-game, I'm sorry.”  Evan looks like a child as his fingers twitch, helplessly reaching around in the air. 

 

Finally, I begin to gather the cards.  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. You’re right, we barely know each other.”

 

He sniffles, and only then I realise that he had been crying.   _ Shit _ .

 

“I may not know you very well, but I want to, okay?”  I clench my fingers around the hem of my sweatshirt. “We’re both in this place… for a reason.”

 

“I, I’d like to be alone now, please.”  Evan sits still, perched on his bed, the cards in piles around him as his back faces me.  

 

I sigh, giving him a sad nod.  “I.. yeah, okay.” As I leave, I remember the paper that fell out of his pocket.  I’m about to hand it to him, but he looks too broken, so I decide I’ll just give it to him tomorrow.

 

The door clicks shut softly behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to put another chapter, since I felt bad (even though it's only been a couple of days). 
> 
> Yesterday was pretty difficult for me, and I felt like maybe posting more would make me feel better. 
> 
> -Jared


	10. Dear Evan Hansen...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor reads the letter he found, without being able to help himself.

Sitting in bed, I tug out the paper from my pocket.   _ Why did I even take this anyway? _  Slowly, I open up the neatly folded up page.  Smoothing it out on my knee, I read the carefully written words under my breath.  “Dear Evan Hansen…”  _ Okay, who wrote him a letter?  Jared? He doesn’t seem like the letter-writing type _ .  So, even though I know I shouldn’t read someone else’s mail, I continue on, curiosity getting the best of me.  “Last letter I wrote landed me in here, but Dr. Sherman insists I keep writing them anyway, so does my mom.”  _ Last letter I wrote landed me in here?  What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?   _ “I still think it’s stupid to write letters to myself, especially since it’s what got me into this mess in the first place, but if it makes mom happy, then-” I stop there, confused.   _ Is this a letter Evan wrote to himself?  What does he mean about this mess?  _

 

There’s a noise, and I briefly panic, thinking someone, maybe Evan, is going to enter, and catch me reading his weird letter, but there’s no one, so I resume reading.  “Then I will continue. Maybe I should just give up, stop trying to fight it, just allow myself to get better. Even though I don’t want to.”  _ Shit _ .  “There’s a boy here, his name is Connor.  He seems pretty nice, but I don’t think he likes me.  Who would? I’m too much of a wreck.” I put the paper down.   _ He thinks I don’t like him?  Wh- oh _ .  _ Because I fucking yelled at him _ .

 

After a moment, I read more.  “I’m useless, and there’s nothing remarkable about me whatsoever.  Maybe that’s why Jared doesn’t want to be friends.”  _ Is Jared making him feel like shit?   _ “Connor asked me what happened with my arm, I just told him the obvious, that I fell.  Like he won’t see through that. I wonder if Jared knows. Mom does, of course. That’s why I’m here.  Because I didn’t climb high enough. I won’t tell anyone this, it’ll just make people give me more attention and pity.  That’s the last thing I want. I wish everything would go away, the things I’m feeling, the pain. If only I weren’t such a fucking burden.  Sincerely, your best and dearest (and ONLY friend), me.”

  
I let the paper slip from my fingers in disbelief.   _ Am I that much of a fucking idiot?  I didn’t put the pieces together. We’re in this place, of  _ course _ he wants to die just as much as I do, and he’s pissed off he didn’t succeed.  Instead of destroying his life, he destroyed his arm. I guess he’s burning inside, too _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it’s short and sucks.


	11. Leave me alone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Evan POV)
> 
> Evan starts to worry when he notices something is missing...

Another day, another excruciating group therapy session.  I still haven’t spoken, nor have I eaten. I typically take a bite of whatever they give me, then toss it.  If I can’t die by jumping from a forty foot tall tree, I’ll settle for the slow starvation method instead. I wonder if Connor has caught on.  He’s tried to offer me food, but I declined.

 

Speaking of Connor.  He hardly gave me so much as a glance in my direction today.  Not that I blame him of course, but… still. Overall, he seems like something is disturbing him.  Whatever it is, it’s kept him quiet. No outbursts today, but this silence is perhaps _worse_ that that.  

 

Something else is bothering me.  The letter. I noticed this morning, that it was missing.  I had written another one of those dumb letters to myself Friday morning.  It was in my pocket, and then this morning… gone. I tried to tell myself not to freak out about it, but if someone sees it, like mom, _especially_ mom, then I’m stuck here.  

 

Now, as break time approaches, I find myself stroking the fuzzy cactus toy in my pocket with my thumb.  Feeling it makes me look back at Connor, and I can’t push aside those feelings, the feelings where I want to put my hand in his.  Well, maybe not my hands, they get sweaty. Like when I talk to him, I can’t believe just how disgustingly clammy my hands are, which then makes me panic because I don’t want to accidentally touch him with my gross hands, and then that thought makes them even worse, so I end up keeping my hands firmly placed in my lap.  Still, the way he looks...

 

And… break!

 

I sit still, knowing that Connor won’t want to talk to me again like yesterday.  He probably didn’t want to then, either, just did it to be nice. And after I got mad… no way would he want to talk to me again.

 

After a few minutes, a shadow crosses my path.  I look up, surprised to see Connor there.  

 

“Hey,” he says simply, his voice even.  “Are you okay?”

 

I’m staring at him for a second too long, then shrug.  “Are you okay, I’m okay, I’m not… I… I dunno.”

 

Connor sits in the empty seat beside me, the one where Eric was sitting.  “What’s wrong?”

 

His voice is so soft and deep that I almost choke, the way he sounds like he _actually_ cares.  “I, um, well… actually. I lost something,” I confess.

 

For a brief second, he looks nervous, but it vanishes so quickly I think I’ve imagined it.  “What is it?”

 

“What...”   _Okay, think of something_ .   _You can’t just say ‘Oh, yeah, it’s my dumb depression letters I write to myself because my therapist makes me!’_ “It’s a...thing.  I, I like to write poetry, so I was pretty proud of this one and I wanted to hold onto it, but now it’s gone, so…” I give him a sad smile, but he just raises an eyebrow.

 

“Poetry?”

 

“Ye-yeah, poetry…”

 

To my surprise, a little smile shows on his own face.  “What authors do you like?”

 

 _Oops_ .  I rack my brain for a poet, _any_ poet, and one sticks out.  I did a report on her a few years ago, so I know a bit about her.  “S-Sylvia Plath,” I spit out.

 

He looks impressed, both eyebrows lifted this time.  “You like her work? She’s one of my favourites.” Connor makes sure we’re making eye contact when he continues to speak.  “It’s a shame she killed herself, there was so much more she could’ve done, don’t you think?”

 

 _Why is he giving me that look?  Does… does he know- well, of course he knows that I must be suicidal, why else would I be here?  But it’s as if he’s challenging me to flat-out admit it. The way he said that other part, too. It’s almost like he’s.. like he’s telling me_ _that_ I _could do more with my life instead of trying to throw it away.  No, he couldn’t be. This is ridiculous_.  At last, I speak.  “Yeah, it’s.. a shame.”

 

Connor opens his mouth as if to say more, but just then, Helen speaks up, announcing our break is over.  He goes back to his seat.

 

Helen decides this time that we all should share, moving in a clockwise position, her starting.  For our first half, we practised more meditation stuff, but now, she wants us to talk. Great.

 

The last fifteen minutes arrive.  Connor has just finished speaking, a brief discussion about how he gets bullied at school for his appearance.  He doesn’t need to say it, and in fact he doesn’t, but I know he doesn’t mean his hair, his height. It’s his scars.  Once he finishes, he crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair, and nods his chin towards Eric.

 

It’s as if Eric’s time was sped up, what was about ten minutes had become a few mere seconds.  

 

A cold sweat drops over me when I know it’s my turn to speak.  I open my mouth, terrified now, but I have to do it. Nothing comes out.

 

“Sweetie, it’s okay, take your time.  Just, say what’s on your mind,” Helen suggests, her voice gentle and kind.

 

But I can’t handle that.  Something in her tone, the piteous looks she’s giving me, I can’t take it.  

 

Standing up, I push aside my chair as I become angrier and angrier, angry that I’m this kid who needs to be handled like I’m weak.  I know I am, I do, I know, but I hate it. “Stop talking to me like super delicate, like I’m going to fall apart! You don’t care about me, none of you do!”  I can’t help but slide my eyes over to Connor, who stares back in shock. “You’re just paid to keep me from killing myself! You’re, like, probably paid to care! You’re paid to listen to us spilling our lives while you pretend to give a crap about us!  But the truth is, nobody really cares about us, and that’s why we’re in this hellhole anyway!” _Why am I even shouting like this?_ I freeze, and my words settle in.   _I really messed up_ … With that, I turn, running out of the room, tears in my eyes.   _Just get me out of here!_

 

I make it a few feet into my room before someone grabs my forearm.  “I-I'm sorry, Helen, I-”

 

“What happened back there?”  Connor asks, still holding onto me.

 

“What happ-” I pull my arm free, starting to walk into my room.  “It's nothing. Seriously, it's- it's nothing.”  I look down at the floor, avoiding him still.   _Please, go away_... 

 

He huffs, and in a few long strides, he's beside me again.  “That was _not_ nothing.”

 

Sighing, I clench my fists before staring at him.  “Please. Leave me alone. Okay? It- it's not like y-you would even care, or know what it's like.  No, that, that's not fair to you. I'm just saying I- I'm sorry, I need to be alone.” I try to close the door, but he puts his hand out to stop it.

 

Another step, the door closes behind him.  “Evan..”

 

”Go.  Please, Connor, I can’t.. just please go, okay?  Please!”

 

For a moment, there’s silence, and I think that he’s left, but then his voice pierces the quiet room.

 

“Dear Evan Hansen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get pretty intense...
> 
> Also, I love Sylvia Plath’s work. The book is pretty deep and not an easy read, but The Bell Jar is amazing. I remember reading it all in one afternoon because I got completely absorbed in the story. Again, it’s heavy, but it’s great. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for that. 
> 
> I’m not sure how fast updates will be, (and I know I’ve said this before), due to mental health reasons (blah, blah) so we’ll see. I’ll try to post more depending on how I feel. Sorry, I know I’m a mess.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -Jared


	12. Tell the truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor confronts Evan about the letter.
> 
> Warning: Self-harm, suicide, panic attack

 

A chill runs down my spine.  “Connor?” Nervousness creeps into my voice, but I don't dare to turn yet.  I already know what I will see. I just can't look at him. 

 

“You wrote this?  This note? You did, didn’t you.”

 

There’s a moment where I let the words float in the air, despite weighing heavily in the thick air, and they crash, absorbing them into my skin, knowing that this is real, this is happening now.  I nod numbly, standing still, paralyzed with fear. 

 

“The last letter I wrote landed me in here, but Dr. Sherman insists I keep writing them anyway, so does my mom.”

 

Growling, I whip around at last, reaching for the paper.  “Y-you have no ri-right, that's not yours, give, give it back!” 

 

He doesn't look at me, holding the page far above my head, out of reach.  “I still think it’s stupid to write letters to myself, especially since it’s what got me into this mess in the first place, but if it makes mom happy, then I will continue.”  His voice gets a bit louder, almost  _ taunting  _ me.

 

Helplessly, I try to snatch it back, standing on my tiptoes.  “It-its not, it's not what you think! I, why did you, why did you steal that anyway? Please, can you... just give it back?  I really need it, please! Connor!”

 

Connor shakes his head, reading more and more, the words swarming my mind.   _ Stop it, stop it! _  “I'm too much of a wreck.  I’m useless, and there’s nothing remarkable about me whatsoever.  Maybe that’s why Jared doesn’t want to be friends.” He fixes me with a glare as I take a tiny step back, scared of the look he's giving me.  “You can't possibly- you can't possibly believe this bullshit about yourself! And  _ Jared _ ?  Fucking Jared?  Why should you give a shit about what  _ he  _ has to say?  Why do you even talk to him?” 

 

I’m too afraid of this energy to say anything, so I stay quiet, moving back more.  

 

There's a scoff, and he waves the paper around in the air.  “Oh, right, because who else are you supposed to talk to? Because  _ Jared _ is the only ‘friend’ you have?  Well, newsflash, Evan! He's a shitty friend!  You don't deserve a dickwad like that who’s gonna play with your feelings and make you feel like crap!  Instead, hey, here's an option. You can talk to  _ me _ !  Because _I_ understand what it's like to want to fucking end your life!”

 

Tears pool in my eyes, and I keep moving back, but he follows me, going back to the letter, reading in a dangerously loud voice.  “I didn’t climb high enough. I won’t tell anyone this, it’ll just make people give me more attention and pity. That’s the last thing I want.  I wish everything would go away, the things I’m feeling, the pain. If only I wasn’t such a fucking burden. Sincerely, your best and dearest and only friend, me.”

 

Stepping back, I fall onto the bed.  “Stop!” I yell, covering my head with my arms.  “P-please!”

 

Connor crawls onto the bed with me as I inch back further, and he reaches forward, grabbing my broken arm tightly, making me cry out in pain.  “Evan, look at me,” he commands quietly.

 

Slowly, I oblige, fearful eyes meeting his.  “Look at me, look at me, look at me,” I whisper, unable to stop myself from giving in to my tics. 

 

“How did you break your arm?”

 

I shake my head.  “You-you already know, I, I fell, s-so, why, why should it matter?”

 

He sighs heavily, his grip loosening a bit.  “Did you fall?”

 

Biting my lip, I shake my head ever so slightly again.  

 

He crumples the letter in his hand, his knuckles turning white.  “I want you to fucking say it!  Admit it to yourself, admit that you didn’t fall, you let go!”  Connor’s face is inches from mine as he screams at me. “You can’t tell me the truth, you couldn’t tell Jared the truth, you can’t even tell yourself the truth!  You’re lying to yourself, you’ve been lying ever since you hit the ground!”

 

I want to yell, I want to cry, I want to tell him to leave me alone, but I can’t.  I can’t do anything, I can’t move.   _I'm too weak_.

 

Then I hear it.  The creaking open of the door.

 

Alarmed, I turn to see Jared in the doorway.  I hear a soft thump, and my eyes notice he’s dropped a fresh bouquet of daisies, my favourite.  A small part of me wonders how he knew I love them, but mostly I’m scared. 

 

Connor grabs the letter before I can, from where he’s discarded it on the side of the bed, and throws it at Jared, who catches it, still stunned.  “Tell me, Evan. Tell him. Tell  _ yourself _ the truth.  For once in your goddamn life, just tell the truth!”

 

I feel faint, and my eyes bounce from Connor to Jared, and back to Connor.  “Le-leave me alone,” I whimper. Looking back at Jared, I silently pray for him to save me, but he looks just as hungry for answers as Connor does.  I don’t want to do this, I can’t, I  _ won’t _ .  It’s like they’re cornering me, Connor with a face like some sort of starved beast, Jared with curiosity, but it’s like they’re the same.  There’s no way out. 

 

“You’re gonna be alone, Evan, like you always have been, unless you say it,” Connor says under his breath.

 

Gritting my teeth, I ignore Jared’s “tell me what?” and feel myself grow hot.  “Stop it, Connor. You don’t care about me! Nobody does! This is none of your business, you aren’t helping!”  Another breath. “Newsflash, Connor!” I exclaim, imitating him. “I’ve  _ always _ been alone.  You want me to say it?  You really want me to fucking say loud and clear what happened?  What happened is that I knew that I was never going to matter, never going to be important, never going to be  _ loved _ .  Nobody gives a shit about a dying star.  So  _ that’s  _ why I climbed that fucking tree.”  I don’t bother to wipe away my tears.  “I let go. You’re right. I let go, I let go of everything, I let go because I didn’t want to live this stupid life anymore.  I still don’t.” Inhale. “I let go.  Look, I admitted it to myself.  Happy?"

 

There’s a silence.  Both boys look surprised at my outburst, but I don’t care.  “Go away, please,” I whisper, my voice sounding funny now from crying.

 

“Oh, Evan, why didn’t you just tell me?” Jared’s voice sounds so broken as he comes close.

 

“Why would he?” Connor sneers, staring at him.  “You would’ve just called him a  _ freak _ , too, wouldn’t you?  At least I know what it’s like to hate yourself, to think that nobody gives a shit about you!”

 

Slowly, I slide out of the bed.  “Connor.”  

 

He turns, about to say something when I appear beside him, but his eyes drop to my hand, where the cactus and the star bracelet rest in my palm.  “I’m sorry-” he starts, but I nudge my hand closer, looking down at the ground where my tears drop, forming tiny, tiny puddles.

 

“Take it,” I whisper, trying not to let my voice break, but it does, and another wave of tears floods through me, and I force it in his hands.  “T-take it!”

 

Connor looks hurt, but he doesn’t deserve to look hurt, he doesn’t,  _ does he?   _ Slowly, he takes them back, frowning at the objects.  “I'm sorry...I- I'll see you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the "did you fall? Or did you let go?" dialogue a bit.
> 
> Sorry about this chapter.
> 
> -Jared


	13. I care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Evan talk; Jared acts sorta like how a friend should act.

Once he leaves, Jared approaches me, worry etched into his face.  “Evan, what was that all about? Why did you say all those things?”

 

Wiping my tears, I shrug.  “It's, it’s okay. Don't worry- it's okay.”

 

Jared laughs, a dry, nervous laugh, as he puts a hand on my shoulder.  “Evan, you, you can't expect me to believe it's okay.”

 

I shrug him off of me, and sit on the end of my bed, staring out the window.  My eyes hurt. They hurt while I cry, and even now, after I'm done crying, they still hurt.  “Read the letter. Read the letter, and, and you'll understand. Then you'll get it,” I say finally.

 

He opens his mouth, but decides not to speak, and seeming to remember he's holding the letter in his fist, he begins to open it up.

 

_I'm sorry I'm worrying you… I can't believe Connor would do such a thing!_ _No, no, he, he had every right, it's, it's me.  It's my fault. If I wasn't such a fuckup…_. I reach for my water bottle, and I spot my Lexapro pills beside it, the ones I didn't take this morning.  Until I got admitted to the hospital, I stopped taking them. I didn't want them. I didn't like the way they made me feel, like something was wrong with me, _well, something_ is _wrong with me, I'm a disaster_ , that I needed to take drugs to be someone worthy, someone with something to contribute to society, or whatever.  On the other hand, _not_ taking them made me nauseous, get headaches.  So, I take the pills with a swig of water. As I wipe my mouth, I notice Jared is watching me.   _I should never have told him to… why did he have to come in… I… shit, I don't want another lecture..._

 

Jared slowly makes his way towards me, face like he's seen a ghost.  “Evan, I… why didn't you talk to me or something?”

 

_ This is just like how it was with mom _ .

 

I feel myself ready to explode.  “You really expect me to talk to you about my bullshit?  Half the time I don't even know what I am to you! A friend, an acquaintance, or… a.. whatever!  One day you're saying you only talk to me for your fucking car insurance, and the next you act like you actually care about me!”  I exclaim, my emotional build-up, my anger at Connor for exposing me like this is being released onto Jared.

 

He sighs, crumpling the paper slightly.  “You're right, I'm sorry, I've been a dick,” he mumbles.  “I really do care about you, though, okay?”

 

I scoff, bowing my head.  “Forget it. I know nobody cares about me, you don't need to lie.”

 

“God-fucking-dammit!” Jared roars suddenly, throwing the wadded-up letter at the ground, where it hits the linoleum with a soft  _ thwack _ .  “You say all this bullshit about nobody caring about you, but look, you have me, you have motherfucking  _ Connor Murphy  _ giving you shit, checking up on you!  Your mom cares about you, the people at this fucking hospital care about you!  So stop with this self-deprecating bullshit already! Just accept that maybe, just  _ maybe _ , there are people out there that love you!”  Jared pants as he finishes yelling, and I stare back at him in shock.  

 

“Jared, I-”

 

One sharp look shuts me up.  “So don't you think for another second that people don't care about you because they do!  Or else you wouldn't be here! You would be dead, alone, nobody to even mourn if nobody cared.  But because people  _ do _ , you're here, getting help!  I know I act like I don't care about you, but I do, I  _ really _ do.  You're my only friend, okay?”

 

_ Huh? _  “On-only friend?” I stutter out lamely, giving him a blank look.

 

Jared grips the straps of his backpack and shrugs.  “Yeah, I mean, I never had ‘camp friends’ or whatever.  I just made them up to seem cool. Truth was, I would spend days by myself, nights by myself.  Weeks by myself, all alone.”

 

“Why didn't.. why didn't you tell me?  I thought you moved on and ‘outgrew’ me, or whatever…” I bite my lip, obsessively picking at a loose thread in my sweatshirt sleeve.  

 

Another shrug.  “Well, you didn't tell me you tried to kill yourself,” he says simply.

 

_ What?! _  “That's- that's not fair, that's not an excuse!”  I jump to my feet angrily. “That was also before!  A-and, and there's a difference between not making your ‘friend’ feel alone, and telling someone you want to fucking kill yourself!”

 

His eyebrows shoot up, but then he nods slightly.  “Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. I just feel useless, you know?  Sure, you didn't tell me, and you had every right not to, but I should've at least noticed you were a bit off somehow!  I’ve been there for you before, wasn’t I? I know you don’t totally forgive me, but…Ev, c’mon.”

 

I don't respond, just sit back down on my bed.

 

He sighs, and sits next to me, but puts some space between us.  “Here, I brought you some stuff. Don’t tell anyone I’m such a sap, ‘kay?”  Jared gives me an awkward smirk, which I hesitantly return. “Alright, so…” He unzips his backpack, and reaches inside for a moment.  “Gift numero uno!” He pulls out his hand, revealing a crumpled twenty.

 

I blink, staring at the bill.  “Um.. th-thanks? I think?”

 

Proudly, he slaps it onto my bed.  “Next…” He holds out a chocolate bar, which makes me chuckle because it's mint, which he always used to tease me about.  (“Who the fuck wants their chocolate to taste like toothpaste?!”) “And finally…”

 

Something soft lands on my face, and I peel it off, revealing a t-shirt.  It has a picture of a tree, captioned with ‘Tree Fucker’

 

“Jared!” I exclaim, swatting him.  “I can't wear something so obscene in public!”

 

He howls with laughter, nodding.  “I know! That's why I got it for you!  I knew you would be mortified to wear it!”

 

I stick my tongue out in protest.  Despite the fact how trees now make me a bit uncomfortable, I find it funny, and it warms my heart, knowing Jared put in effort to get me some rather…  _ unique  _ gifts.  “I'll wear it as PJs,” I decide, folding up the ridiculous shirt.

 

“Perfect,” he says, still laughing.  “Oh, hold on.” Jared gets up, picking up the slightly damaged flower bouquet from the ground, and shyly offers it to me.

 

Instead of taking the flowers, I stand, hugging him.  He doesn't hug back at first, he's tense with surprise, but he hugs me back.  “Thank you for caring about me, really, it means a lot. I thought you didn't, but… you do.  And that makes me happy.”

 

I feel his smile against my shoulder.  “Of course I care about you, dumbass.”

 

When he pulls away, he flops onto my bed, groaning.  “Dude, your bed is  _ shit _ !”

 

“Oh!  I don't think it's all that bad…”

 

Jared rolls around in it, messing up the neat way I made up my bed.  “This is so uncomfortable!”

 

“Gee, thanks,” I say dryly.  “At least  _ you  _ don't have to sleep in it.”

 

“Just sayin’!”

 

Rolling my eyes, I unwrap the chocolate bar, taking a bite.   _ Mmm _ … I hold it out as an offering, but he makes a grossed-out face, which I take as a no.  

 

“Thanks for visiting,” I say quietly after a couple of minutes.  

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, dork.  Don't expect me to start coming in with gifts all the time, okay?”  Jared crosses his arms at me, but he has a hint of a grin on his face.

 

Snickering, I nod.  “Got it.”

 

He breaks out into a full smile, and ruffles my hair.  “Listen, I gotta go home, but, uh… you get better, okay?  Also, do you need me to fight Connor?”

 

_ Oh.  Yeah, Connor.  Connor. I completely forgot.   _ “No, it's okay.”   _ Wow, that was convincing _ .

 

“Right…okay.  Well, I'll be back, or at least have your mom pass along a message or something.”  He picks up his backpack. “I really do hope you're getting better. Sad Evan pisses me off, okay?”  Jared frowns as he opens the door.

 

“Yeah.”  I wave goodbye, then lie down once I hear the door close.  I take another bite of chocolate, then curl up in bed, missing my old bed, the same blanket I've had for years, my pillow that always has little feathers sticking out of it.   _ I hate this place _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Soon, a bit of Jared and Evan’s past will be shared, why Evan is still a bit surprised,doubtful, and uncomfortable when Jared says he cares about him. And why Evan still might not have forgiven Jared...
> 
> Jared has an... interesting taste when it comes to gift-giving, huh?


	14. Accept me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan tests out some therapy skills in distress, and is essentially “Evan In The Bathroom”, minus the whole “called a loser and abandoned by best friend” and singing parts...
> 
> Connor wants to make amends.

“Hello, Evan!”

 

Helen is friendly and excited as usual, even though I yelled and stormed out yesterday.  “H-hey, Helen.”

 

I take my seat between Josh and Helen.  Normally I wouldn't sit with Josh because he reminds me of my dad, leaving his family, even if he does seem to genuinely regret it, but since the only other spot was between Leslie and Connor… well, I'm good here.  The other spot instead gets taken by Karen.

 

“I’m sorry,” I mumble to Helen, but she gives me an understanding smile.  

 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, we all have our days.  There’s no pressure to share anything, alright?  However, I really would love to hear you speak,” she coaxes, patting my knee.  

 

I nod, and bite my thumbnail, scared to look up since Connor is directly across from me.

 

Once we are settled, Helen stands up, and walks over to a giant whiteboard behind her.  We all turn around in our chairs, so for a moment, all you hear are squeaking and scraping of the chairs moving around to face the board.  I can feel Connor’s eyes on me without looking behind me.

 

Helen opens up a marker, briefly testing it on the side, then writes in big letters going down; “A-C-C-E-P-T-S” She taps the board with the capped marker.  “Accept the situation,” she announces. “This is a part of something called DBT, or dialectical behaviour therapy. We haven’t directly mentioned it before, but a lot of the things we have done here go along with some of the skills we will discuss today and in the future.”

 

_ If she’s just gonna be explaining this thing, then maybe I won’t have to talk after all! _

 

“A stands for activities.  That means, doing something that can help calm you, take your mind off of the distressing situation, or keep you from destructive behaviour.  Evan-”

 

_ Shit _ .

 

“-please give us an example of an activity you use or can use to help yourself feel better.”

 

I start to speak, facing her, but she gestures to the others.  “Not me, them.” 

 

Slowly, I turn around, and for a brief moment, I make eye contact with Connor, so I look away, looking at Leslie instead.  “Um.. an activity… I.. um, I l-like to write?”

 

Helen looks happy, and nods.  “Writing is perfect! I love that, great job, Evan!  Alright, next one is C, for contributions.”

 

I take that as a cue to look back at the board, making it a bit easier to avoid Connor.

 

“Contributions is when you do something nice for someone you care about, or for your community.  Josh, how would you do this?”

 

Josh speaks, but I’m not facing him, my eyes are glued to the floor instead, and I block him out.

 

Helen goes to explain the next letter (even though she adds that she doesn’t really like it very much), having Eric discuss it, then she comes to E, and it’s Connor’s turn.

 

I watch from the corner of my eye as he crosses his arms, shrugging.  “For emotions, I guess whenever I’m sad, I think about pretty things, which makes me feel better.”

 

“Pretty things?  Like what?” Leslie inquires, tilting her head.  “Like flowers, or?”

 

Connor glances at me, then looks away.  “Something like that.”

 

His answer doesn’t seem to satisfy her, but Leslie doesn’t ask anything more.  

 

Without prompt, Karen explains what the P is, ‘push away,’ and how she pushes away her problems briefly by distracting herself by reading or planning out vacations.  Leslie does thoughts, Helen finishing up with sensations. While they talk, I feel Connor’s gaze on me become more and more intense, which scares me.

 

Right as Helen says we will take our break now, I head out of the room, sprinting to the bathroom.  I lock myself in a stall, taking shuddering breaths, trying not to cry. I can’t believe I’m getting so bent out of shape!  I lean against the back of the stall door, trying to work on those stupid ACCEPTS skills. Going with sensations, I test out something Dr. Sherman suggested once, the ‘5-4-3-2-1’ skill.  

 

_ ‘Five things you see.’  Toilet, toilet paper, the plaster wall, the tiled floor, my sneakers _ .   _ ‘Four things you feel _ .’   _ Heat from nervous sweating and my long sleeves, my cast…, the cool plastic of the door against the back of my neck, my shoes that are a bit too small which are squeezing my feet slightly, and the soft cotton of my sweatshirt sleeves brushing against my forearms _ .   _ ‘Three things you hear _ . _ ’  My breathing, which is starting to slow to normal, the sound of the door opening; someone entering the bathroom, their footsteps _ .   _ ‘Two things you smell _ .’ _  The piña colada-scented air freshener and the scent of my sweat _ .   _ More footsteps _ .   _ ‘One thing you taste _ . _ ’ Something sour, as I hear the distinctive sound of metal rings rapping against the door _ .

 

“Evan?”

 

I hold my breath, but I know it’s no use.  “G-g-go a-away,” I mumble.

 

Connor sighs, and I hear him smacking his palm against the door.  “Hey, I’m sorry, please talk to me?”

 

Whimpering, I slide to the ground, pressing my forehead against my knees.  “N-no…”

 

“Evan, look, I, I know what it’s like, to hate yourself.  That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it? We can talk about this sorta stuff because I understand!”

 

“I thought I could talk to you, I thought I could trust you, but apparently, I can’t,” I reply quietly.

 

Connor huffs loudly.  “I know I screwed up. Really, I do, and I’m sorry.  I just can’t stand the fact that you’re scared of me now!  Again! I wrecked my relationships with every member of my family, but with you, I, I don’t want to mess up.  Maybe the fact I hurt you before is like a sign or some shit, that you’re better off without me, and, and you are, you are better off being friends with someone, even fucking  _ Jared _ !  But I like spending time with you, so… please.”

 

I bite back a response, and stay silent, allowing the panic inside of me to settle in every part of my body.

 

“So, what, you’re just gonna ignore me forever?  Ignore the fact that unless you open up to people, you’re just gonna be alone?”  Connor pounds on the door, and I hear desperation rising in his voice.

 

Inhaling deeply, I stare up at the ceiling, trying not to let the tears roll down my cheeks.  “Be alone, huh? You… you have no right to say that,” I whisper. “Don’t you, don’t you do that, too?  Stay closed up? Besides, why again should I open up to you if you’re just gonna hurt me? By now, you already know one of my biggest secrets.  What else do you want from me?”

 

He doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if he’s gone away, but then he speaks again.  “I like you, Evan, I, I want to be friends, okay? I can be a better friend than-”

 

“Jared?”  I interrupt.  “Yeah, I thought maybe you could be.  But when he came to see me, he reminded me of how we used to be.  Sure, it wasn’t  _ ideal _ , our friendship isn’t  _ perfect _ , but I know he cares about me.  Really,  _ truly  _ cares about me.  And that’s more than I can say for you, you only care about yourself.  As long as you have someone to torment, you’re happy, right? Whether, whether it’s your family or me!  You don’t care!”  _ Okay,  I know that was harsh, but… in this moment, all I want to do is hurt him like he hurt me _ .

 

“Evan…” he sounds so broken, broken and  _ tired _ .  “I  _ do _ care.  Listen, you don’t need to speak to me ever again, fine, I get that, but just come out?  Please.”

 

Hesitantly, I get to my feet.  With trembling fingers, I unlock the door, stumbling into his arms.  For a second, I forget it all, allowing myself to be comforted, but then it all crashes over me, and I back away, pushing past him, hurrying back to the meeting room just as break is ending.

 

When I return to the room, I’m still trembling, and I feel sick.  I take deep breaths as I sit in my seat, but it doesn’t really help.  

 

Connor enters a couple of seconds later, and I don’t look at him, but knowing that he’s there makes me feel worse.

 

For the rest of the group, Helen teaches us more skills, but I’m not paying attention.  As soon as it’s over, I slip out of the room and hurry back to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include something from my own experience in therapy... figured Evan and Connor (and the others in their group!) could use with learning some handy tools. Heck, maybe anyone reading could find it useful, too! Who knows.
> 
> Edit: Connor isn't too subtle that the "pretty thing" is Evan, but Evan is oblivious...
> 
> -Jared


	15. Or early March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan flashes back to his freshman year.
> 
> Warning: Self-harm
> 
> (sorta long update)

Locking myself in a stall for the second time in the past two hours, I lean over the toilet, hurling my insides into the toilet.  There’s not much, really, just acid reflux coming up. After I flush the toilet, I feel lightheaded, and fall to my knees, resting my arms on the seat as my head hangs down.  Coughing, I take raspy breaths, shuddering through my whole body. I lean back, my head against the door as I cry, which only makes my aching throat hurt more.  _ Get me out of this place already! _

 

As I sit there, ignoring the stench of vomit, my mind drifts back to when I first got caught cutting.  I was at school, back in my freshman year, in the spring, March, I believe. Usually my favourite time of year, the flowers starting to come back, ready to bloom.  This time, though, I don’t think I even noticed them. Back then, I was still sort of friends with Jared. It was after school, when I thought everyone had left. That day, I had a severe panic attack in class, and out of embarrassment, I ran out of the room.  My class teased me about it, so I waited until I could be alone to cut.

 

_ Sitting in the staircase near the science wing, I reach into my pocket, drawing out a small blade I grabbed that morning.  This is one of the first times I’ve cut before, so the cuts are shallow, small, careful. The memories of earlier keep replaying in my head, when I had to give a speech, but I couldn’t form any words.  How mortifying that was, the way everyone was judging me. I glance down, seeing the skin is just barely pierced, only tiny dots of blood appearing.  _

 

_ Before I can cut again, the door to the staircase opens, and I jump, a cold sweat settling over me.  Looking up, I see Jared there. He hasn’t noticed me yet, and I keep quiet, hoping he won’t turn around. _

 

_ He does. _

 

_ “Evan, why are you still-  _ **_Evan_ ** _!” _

 

_ Quickly, I hide my arm behind my back, the blade clattering to the floor.  “J-Jared, what are you doing here?” _

 

_ He wrinkles his brow as he comes closer.  “I had to finish something up for com-sci… but Evan, were you… were you  _ **_cutting yourself_ ** _?” _

 

_ I can’t lie my way out of this, he saw me, clear as day.  I slowly reveal my arm, ashamed. “I’m sorry…” _

 

_ Jared crouches beside me.  “Hey, what happened?” _

 

_ “I had a panic attack in class, and- and I couldn’t really speak and I started to get all sweaty and gross and I kept stammering and everyone started to laugh, so I started to, I started to cry so, so here I am, I waited until the end of the day, and I-” _

 

_ “Shh, okay, it’s okay, deep breaths.”  He reaches into his bag, pulling out his water bottle.  “Here, drink.” _

 

_ I take a few sips, feeling my heart rate go back down to normal.  “Th-thanks.. Jared.. Please don’t tell my mom, okay? She, she can’t know, she’ll get really worried, and I can’t do that to her.” _

 

_ He frowns, but eventually nods.  “Alright, I won’t.” _

 

_ ****** _

_ A week has gone by.  I’ve cut four more times. _

 

_ I open my notebook, absentmindedly doodling as I wait for Mr. Harris to start the lesson.  Suddenly, the school’s guidance counselor, Ms. Brown, raps on the open door. Mr. Harris greets her, and she whispers something in his ear, and they both look at me.   _ **_That can’t be good._ **

 

_ “Evan?  Can you come with me, please?  And take your backpack, too.” _

 

_ Gulping, I watch as my classmates snicker behind hands, whispering, chuckling. _

 

_ Ms. Brown gives me a gentle smile and leads me to her office, where I see my mom is waiting.   _ **_Definitely not good._ **

 

_ “Hi, sweetheart!”  My mom has a confused smile on her face as she waves at me.   _ **_So she doesn’t know what this is about, either._ **

 

_ Ms. Brown gestures towards the slightly ripped vinyl couch mom is sitting on, and I sit beside her, nervous.  “So, I’m sure you’re both wondering why you’re here. Evan, Heidi, I received a rather… worrisome and alarming message from a student.”   _ **_Wait…_ **

 

_ My mom tilts her head, still smiling, but it’s wavering.  “What do you mean? Evan, what does she mean?” _

 

_ I just shrug, but I already think I have a pretty good idea. _

 

_ “Evan, do you know what I'm talking about?” Ms. Brown turns to me. _

 

_ “N-no,” I mumble.   _ **_Yes._ **

 

_ She takes a breath and folds her hands on her lap before speaking again.  “Heidi, your son has been self-harming. Are you aware of this? I’m sorry it had to be this way, Evan, but when I’m informed that someone is hurting someone or being hurt, I have to tell a parent.” _

 

_ Her eyes widen, and she grows pale.  She turns to me, and her eyes are shining.  “Evie?” The word comes out as a frightened whisper. _

 

_ My palms grow sweaty, my face red.  I look down at the green carpeted floor, trying not to cry.  “I’m sorry, mom…” _

 

_ There’s the sound of Ms. Brown’s chair moving back to her desk, and the noise of papers being shuffled.  “Heidi, I have a list of some fantastic therapists for Evan. I also do think that it could be a good idea to have him spend a few days at a hospital.  I’m not sure how severe his self-harm is, but regardless, this is a good idea for his own safety. Of course, it’s up to the both of you. There’s an excellent group of doctors at-” _

 

_ I don’t hear the rest of her sentence.  I spit out a few words of having to use the bathroom, that it’s an emergency, and before either of them can say anything, I’m out of the office.  I run, running past the elevator, past the main office, past the teacher’s bathroom, past the Spanish classroom, past the French classroom, past the English rooms, the history rooms, ignoring the faces of students, and I shove open the door into the boy’s bathroom.  It reeks of urine and weed, but I don’t care. _

 

_ I’m sobbing, not caring that the one red-haired guy who is always vaping is watching me, or whoever is at the urinal.  I open the first stall door, hastily trying to lock it, before I remember that the lock is broken.  _ **_Fuck_ ** _.   _

 

_ With shaky hands, I pull out my phone, dialing the first number I can think of.   _

 

**_‘Yo, yo, yo, this is Kleinman’s phone, I'm too busy to listen to your bullshit, so leave a message, but I probably won't listen to it! Anyway, you know what to do!’  BEEP!_ **

 

_ Sighing, I don't bother to leave a voice message, and type out one instead.   _

 

_ ‘Hey, Jared?  Is it okay if you meet me in the bathroom?’ _

 

_ Not even ten seconds go by before I text again. _

 

_ ‘I’m sorry it’s just Ms. Brown said I have to go to the hospital and I’m really scared and my mom is here and I don’t know what to do I’m panicking’ _

 

_ A few more seconds. _

 

_ ‘Please Jared I really need you I’m crying I don’t know what to do Jesus I’m scared please help!’ _

 

_ Then it hits me.   _ **_Nobody else could’ve told her that I’ve been cutting, nobody else knows.  It had to be Jared._ ** _  Rage and betrayal fills me, and I shut off my phone.   _ **_Screw it.  I can’t talk to him._ ** _  Wiping my eyes with my sleeve, I push open the door.   _

 

_ Vape guy and whoever was at the urinal has left. _

 

_ Going to the sink, I turn on the squeaky faucet which sprays water all over me.   _ **_Shit!_ ** _  I cup my hands beneath the stream of harsh water and dip my face in.  It feels a bit better. Not knowing why, I squeeze some soap on my hands from the dispenser.  The beam it is attached to is kind of falling apart, so the dispenser flops over. I wash my hands.  Then again. And again. And again. I’m not sure why I felt the need to wash them once, even four times. _

 

_ At last, I turn off the water, and wipe my hands on my jeans, leaving streaks of water.  My sweatshirt sleeves are soaked now from the repetitive washing, and they are stretched out slightly, hanging limply beyond my hands. _

 

_ Dreading the fact that I’ll have to go to the hospital, I trudge back slowly to Ms. Brown’s office.  It takes seventy-three seconds. _

 

_ When I get back, my mom’s eyes are red, and she’s gripping a tissue in one hand, the list of doctors in the other.  She looks at me with such sad, sad eyes, and before I can take another step, she gets up, grabbing me in a tight hug, burying her face in my shoulder.  “Oh, Evan. Oh, Evan. Oh, Evan,’ she repeats over and over. _

 

_ “Oh, Evan,” I echo under my breath.   _ **_Oh, Evan, what have you done?_ **

 

_ Ms. Brown puts a hand on my shoulder when my mom pulls away at last, and gives me an attempt at a reassuring smile.  “Before you go with your mother, do you need to get anything from your locker?” _

 

_ “Y-yeah…”.  _ **_I don’t._ **

 

_ “Go ahead and get it, sweetheart, and come back here, alright?” _

 

_ “Mmhm.” _

 

_ I leave the room again, walking to my locker.  I spin the dial on my lock. _

 

**_Two.  Five. Five.  One. One. Four._ **

 

_ It opens, and I reach into the practically empty metal box.  There’s a notebook and a textbook. Nothing I need. _

 

_ I close it, turning the dial to twelve after three spins with satisfying whirring noises. _

 

_ When I walk back, I count my steps. _

 

**_One hundred and seven._ **

 

_ ******* _

_ I sit in the back of the car as mom drives us home.  Before we left, Ms. Brown said perhaps we should go back to my place, speak to a therapist, then see what they think about whether or not I should go to the hospital. _

 

_ The ride is silent.  At one point, I caught a glimpse of mom in the rear-view mirror.  She was crying. I didn’t look up again for the rest of the ride home. _

 

_ When we get home, she puts on a smile, but her face is streaked with tears.  It’s one of those times when she looks older than she really is, tired. I’ve seen this face a few times.  When dad left and she told me everything would be alright, and that she would always be there for me. When she had really hard days at work.  Fake smile, tears, tired face.  _

 

_ “Evan, are, are you hungry?” She puts her purse down as I let my bag slip to the floor.  Normally I don’t leave it in the living room, I bring it up to my bedroom, but everything feels too heavy for me today.   _

 

_ I shake my head.  “Hungry.. no, I’m, I’m alright.  Is it okay if I take a nap, though?” _

 

_ She gives me a sympathetic smile.  “Of course, yes, you must be tired… I found a therapist, one Ms. Brown recommended?  His name is Dr. Sherman. I made an appointment for you at four…. so factoring in the time it will take to get there… you should have about two hours to rest.”   _

 

_ “Okay..”  _ **_I really don’t want to see a therapist._ **

 

_ “Oh!  Could you please rest on the couch?  Ms. Brown said I shouldn’t let you out of my sight… just in case.  And I know you’d feel uncomfortable if I just sat in your room! We just.. can’t have closed doors.” _

 

**_Crap._ ** _ I nod, then head over to the couch. _

 

_ She drapes a thin blanket over me, and kisses my cheek.  “I’m never gonna leave you, okay? No matter what. I don’t know what I’d do if you-” Her voice breaks before she can finish her sentence, and she gasps, putting a hand over her mouth, shaking her head.  After a moment, she moves the hand away and sniffles. “Sorry, honey.” _

 

_ I sit up, hugging her tightly.  “I love you, mom. So much.” I’m crying now, too. _

 

_ “I love you, too.  I love you no matter what.  You mean the world to me, my beautiful son…” _

 

_ I fall asleep like that, clinging to my mom, head in her lap. _

 

_ ****** _

_ When I met Dr. Sherman, I was a nervous wreck, but he was patient and kind.  Best of all, he said if I was uncomfortable with it, I wouldn’t have to go to the hospital.  However, if things got worse, I might have to.  _

 

_ We arrived home, and I was greeted by a text from Jared. _

 

**_‘I’m sorry’_ **

 

**_For what?  For not responding?  Or for breaking my trust and telling Ms. Brown!?_ **

 

_ I didn’t reply. _

 

_ Not until this morning.  Mom suggested I should stay home today, which suited me just fine.  I couldn’t help it, I had to respond. _

 

**_‘What the hell?  You told Ms. B?’_ **

 

_ Instantaneously, there’s a reply.  _

 

**_‘Christ, Evan, I had to!’_ **

 

**_Had to?!_ ** _ I text back.   _

 

**_‘How could you?!  You promised!’_ **

 

**_‘Fuck, I’m sorry, but I did it to help you!  I was worried!’_ **

 

**_‘You could’ve at least told me first, asshole!’_ **

 

_ A tear splatters onto my screen, and when I try to wipe it away, it leaves a rainbow trail.   _

 

**_‘Evan I’m sorry.  I’m coming over.’_ **

 

_ I know I should accept his apology, he was trying to help, but… I can’t believe he did it without telling me! _

 

_ After a couple of minutes, he knocks on the door.  Even though I’m wearing the same thing I wore yesterday and smell like shit, I open the door. _

 

_ Before I can say anything, Jared gives me a hug, which surprises me, since he’s never the one to show any sort of ‘mushy’ emotions.   _

 

_ “I really was worried about you,” he confesses.  “Here… it’s, it’s an apology slash hope you feel better gift.  Sorry, it’s small…” Jared places something smooth in my hands. _

 

_ I look down, seeing a bright green cactus made out of what I guess is foam.  It’s a simple gift, really, but knowing that he got me something when he didn’t have to, it means everything.   _

 

_ “I.. do you like it?  It’s called a squishy, and I thought, like, it’s kinda cute, and it’s good for like, when you feel anxious and stuff.” _

 

_ I give him a small grin.  “It’s perfect, thank you, Jared… and, and you’re right.. you were just trying to do what was best for me.” _

 

_ His face looks full of relief, and he gives me another hug.  “You’re my best friend, okay? I care about you.” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah
> 
>  
> 
> Bonus points if you figure out where the two school staff people’s names are from.


	16. Hemingway, Plath, Woolf, and Cobain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan goes to find Connor...

I leave the stall, and wash my hands, tilting my head beneath the cool stream of water, rinsing my mouth of the foul taste.   _Maybe I can find gum or something_.  

 

Halfway back on the walk back to my room, I hear loud chatter and cautiously peek around the corner.  There, an older man is talking, aggressive, but not quite yelling. There's a smaller woman, about his age, with red hair, who is trying to calm him.   _Another step_ .  As I take another look, I see a familiar pair of black boots, leading up to jeans, dark gray sweatshirt... _Connor?!  How ridiculous it seems, for me to just see him before and now he's here.  Stupid coincidences._ Quickly, before I can be seen, I scurry back to my room, questions swirling in my mind.

 

When I crawl into bed at last, I instinctively reach my hand into the pillowcase.  Of course, there's nothing there, and I just feel like a moron, my hand reaching around in my pillow for something that isn't there.  It's not even like I miss the toy so much, it was comforting, yes, the texture especially soothed me, but I really miss _him_.  

 

I draw the blanket close to me, all the way up to my neck, and press my head into the pillow, deep enough so it surrounds my head, as if I'm stuck in a cloud.   _If I just didn't write that ridiculous letter, then everything would be okay, wouldn't it?  Yeah, Connor I would be sort of like friends_ .   _Sort of_.

 

\------

The next day, I notice Connor isn’t at our therapy group.   _That’s weird…._  Once it ends, I decide that I might as well man up and find him.

 

After asking Helen, I find Connor’s room, knocking nervously on the smooth wooden door.  There’s no answer, so I walk in. Nobody’s there. _Weird_.  Walking around, I notice someone pacing in the hallway, looking anxious.

 

I walk up to her, and it hits me that she was the woman I saw the other day, trying to settle the angry man.   _Could she be Connor’s mom?_  I tap her shoulder.

 

“H-hello?”  She wipes her eyes, giving me a faint smile.

 

“Um, I’m Evan, I, I guess I’m, uh, I, I know Connor?  Is, is he here? He wasn’t in his room.”

 

Her face lights up and she smiles.  “I’m Cynthia, Connor’s mom! I didn’t think that Connor had any friends!  Oh, but I’m so glad that you two are friends, he always seems so lonely…”

 

 _I… never said anything about being friends…_  Before I can say anything more, Cynthia looks down at my cast and her smile widens.

 

“He signed your cast?” She laughs, and I give her a slight grin in return.

 

“So, um, Connor… Where is he?”

 

Cynthia’s smile falters, and she sighs.  “He’s in surgery. This morning, he had some trouble, his heart.  They thought his heart was fine, he seemed fine, but this morning...”  She stops, noticing my face of fear I didn’t even realise I had. “I’m not really sure when he’ll be out of surgery, but you can wait for him if you like.  The doctors said it should be around three hours, but he’ll have to rest...I’m sure it’ll make him very happy to have his friend by his side.”

 

“A friend by his side… Actually, ma’am, I, well, we, aren’t, I…”  I hold back when it hits me. She needs to think that we are friends, she needs to believe in something, something that will make her happy, especially since her own son attempted suicide not so long ago… _oh.  Of course.  So this must be how mom is feeling, clinging to any scraps of hope that her son, me, is okay_.  “Thank you,” I say at last.  “Thank you.”

 

She steps aside, putting a hand on my shoulder.  “No, thank _you_ for being his friend.”  

 

I take a seat in the chair beside his bed, taking in the surroundings.  His room is just like my own, but on the bed, there are piles of clothes tossed haphazardly.  Among the clothes, I catch a glimpse of dark brown leather.

 

Curiously, I stand up, and push away the clothes, revealing a small book.  Unable to help myself, I rub my fingers along the soft leather, feeling the little crevices and scratches with my fingertips.  I open to a random page, loving the textured cream-coloured pages, the slight scent I can’t quite place.

 

There are a flurry of words, in varying inks, blue, black, thick, light, some I can tell are from a felt-tip, others a ballpoint pen.  My eyes move to a large text, heavy and black and whisper the words to myself. “But they still want to do it all like Hemingway... They'll have to eat a shotgun too.- Ernest Hemingway.”  Eyes dart to another. “Dying is an art.- Sylvia Plath.” The next one makes me particularly feel a slight twinge in my heart, a reminder of how I thought, how I _still_ think about myself and who I am to my mother, how she would be better off without me, despite how she cried that one day, March 8th. “I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work.- Virginia Woolf”

 

One is circled and written in a bright blue Sharpie, the largest of them all, right in the middle.  “I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away.- Kurt Cobain.”   _It’s better to burn out than to fade away_.

 

I close the journal, knowing that I shouldn’t be snooping as the guilt hits me.  Putting it back, I feel a slight shiver go through me, and I realise just how cold it is.  I reach for one of Connor’s sweatshirts. _Surely he won’t mind if I just borrow this, right?  I’ll give it back once he returns_.  Tugging it over my thin long sleeve button-down shirt, I head back over to the chair.  The sweatshirt is quite big on me, hanging just past my knees. However, it’s comfortable, warm, and cozy.  Next thing I know, I’m fast asleep, scrunched up in the chair.

 

When I wake up, I notice Cynthia is there, too, hovering over the bed.  Without moving, for fear of interruption, I try to make out what she’s saying.

 

“-you can’t hear me, I know, you’re resting, but you know I love you, right?  I was so scared… Dr. Green says you are going to be okay, as long as you don’t exert yourself.”

 

There’s a moment of silence, and I realise she’s crying.   _ I… I really hurt _   _mom_ , I think, Cynthia's crying a reminder. _   Back in March, freshman year, she seemed so broken.  God, this time I really wrecked her _ .  

 

“But Evan is here for you when you wake up, so I hope that’s okay,” Cynthia continues, bringing my attention back to her, pulling me from my thoughts.  “He seems like a very nice boy, and I’m so happy you two are friends!” She sniffles, and gives him a hug, kissing his forehead. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours, I need to-” Cynthia isn’t able to finish, her sentence breaking off into a sob.  “Oh, Connor… you know I love you, right?" She takes a deep breath and kisses him again before turning away. Cynthia spends a moment in the doorway, looking back at him, then leaves.

 

As soon as she’s gone, I drag my chair quietly to the side of the bed.  Not quite knowing why, I reach out, taking his hand in mine as I go back to sleep.   _ I’m right here, Connor _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's been a couple of days.
> 
> I dunno what I'm doing with this fic anymore I'm sorry I hate myself here you go.
> 
> Sorry it's a tiny update.
> 
> Screw it.
> 
> Edit: I added a bit because I wanted to make it longer/ have the next chapter start back with Connor's POV.


	17. Are you okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor's POV
> 
> Connor wakes up to see Evan by his side, apologies and romance on his mind.

I wake up, feeling a bit odd from the anesthetics, trying to ignore the feeling like my head is full of stuffed cotton.  I wince, sitting up, putting a hand over my chest.  _ Fuckin’ surgery _ .

 

There’s a faint murmur, and I look to the side to see a figure shifting slightly in their sleep.   _ What the fuck? _  Taking a closer look, I realise it’s Evan, and…  _ is that my sweatshirt he’s wearing?   _

 

I roll over onto my side with a slight gasp of pain and face him.   _ Great _ . _  Another day of watching Evan sleep _ . _ You fucking creep _ .   _ Though, it really is adorable that he’s sleeping in my sweatshirt, waiting for me to wake up in my room.  Even after what happened, he… he still cares about me _ .  Quietly, I stick a hand under my pillow, retrieving some items.  I carefully place the plushie in the crook of his elbow where his arm folds to cushion his head and the bracelet into his slightly opened hand.  Groaning, I sit up, grab the extra blanket, and drape it over his body, leaving his head to peek out.

 

Evan hums in his sleep, tugging the blanket closer to him, clenching his hand with the bracelet, nuzzling the plush toy.   _ I can’t believe I’m asshole enough to hurt someone as sweet as him _ .

 

The next couple of minutes drift by as I keep my eyes on him, oddly feeling comforted by his presence.

 

“Con?”  His eyes flutter open at last, and he blinks at me sleepily.

 

_ Con? Con?!  As if he couldn’t be any cuter, shit, giving me a nickname, that’s so fucking cute!  Damn it!  _ “Hey, you.”

 

He looks down, noticing the cactus and the bracelet.  “I, um.. Thanks. Are, are you okay?”

 

I offer him an awkward grin.  “Hurts a bit, but yeah, I’ll be fine.  Are _ you  _ okay, though?”

 

Evan shrugs, and gathers the blanket around him.

 

Sighing, I flop over on my back, biting the inside of my cheek.  “I really am sorry, you know.”

 

Shrug.

 

“I miss you,” I admit, turning my head to look at him.  “I know we never were really friends, but I miss you, I miss talking to you, suffering through hell group together.”

 

“Hell group?”  He raises an eyebrow. “What, what’s ‘hell group’?”

 

I snicker, my body fully facing him now.  “Ya know, group, the stupid therapy thing.  Hell group.”

 

“Ah.”

 

I frown, my attempt at trying to get him to smile or laugh failed.  “Thanks for being here for when I woke up,” I say quietly. “Even though I fucked up, you still came, which is pretty cool of you.  Seeing you already made me feel better.”  _ Oh, nice going, Connor.  Subtle, much? _

 

Evan blushes and looks away.  “Oh. Um, I’m glad to hear... I think I… might forgive you,” he adds.

 

“You don’t have to forgive me, you know.”   _ Yeesh, still as self-deprecating as always _ .  I sit up, taking a sharp breath against my complaining body.

 

“I know.  But I do. I wanted to, anyway.”  He moves from the chair to a spot beside me on the mattress.  Evan’s eyes dart from my face to my hand, so quick I almost miss it, but I don’t, I catch it.

 

Reaching out, I take his soft hand in mine, gently holding it as to not startle him.  He tenses up, then grips mine, looking at our hands clasped together. It’s a bit awkward-looking, one hand with a cast on holding a frail, manicured one.   _ What a pair we make _ .  It’s interesting, though, the way how this comforts me.  I just hope he’s genuinely okay with this, and not doing it for my sake.  It hits me that I’m in my hospital gown, arms out for all the world to see, for  _ Evan  _ to see, but… I don’t think I really care.  He doesn’t judge me for my scars, and, well, I’m not judging his.

 

Licking my lips, I turn to him, suddenly wondering what it would be like if we kissed.  I want to hit myself for having that thought, but I can’t help myself. Evan is looking at me with his big eyes, ones I could write dozens of cheesy poems about, and his hand is a warm reminder that I’m not alone.  I lean closer, my eyes on his lips. I’m about to go for it, I’m only inches away, when it hits me.  _ He doesn’t want this _ . _  He would never want this, never want me _ .   _ Especially not after what I’ve done _ .  Pulling away from him, I try not to think about how he’s sitting beside me, how we’re inches apart, oh, how it would be  _ so _ easy to hold his body close if I just reached out my arms.  Well, if these arms didn’t have stupid things sticking out of them.

 

“You never answered my question,” I say instead.  I know that he doesn’t want to say anything, and I shouldn’t push him, but anything to prevent myself from doing something  _ really _ stupid, and that I do want to make sure that he’s alright.  “Are you okay?”

 

“I-”

 

Before he can say another word, the door opens, and a doctor walks in, my mom with him.  They both cast a surprised look at Evan, who turns red and scrambles off the bed, then come to my side.

 

Dr. I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-what-your-name-is checks my vitals and gives me a fake smile.  “How are you feeling, son?”

 

_ Don’t call me son _ .  “Fine.”

 

“Any pains?”  He checks the tubes and shit as Cynthia takes my hand, blocking my view of Evan.

 

“No-  _ hey, wait! _ ”  I reach my hand out to Evan, who is trying to slip out, but the motion takes too much effort than I’m capable of, so I lie down again, biting back a cry of pain.  

 

Evan, startled, freezes and looks back.  “I, um, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to…”

 

Cynthia beckons him over with a wave of her hand.  “I’m sure it’s fine, right, Dr. Green?”

 

The doctor nods, and nervously, Evan comes back over to us.

 

“Connor, we placed a pacemaker in your chest.  Originally, your heart seemed to function just fine after you went into cardiac arrest, but when we noticed some irregularities this morning, we decided it would be best to have this.”

 

I don’t listen to him as he continues, and I focus all my attention on Evan instead, which oddly soothes me, making me numb to whatever lingering aches I have in my body.   _ Can the others leave already? I just want to talk to Evan _ …

 

Eventually, the doctor gives me a brisk nod, and Cynthia gives me a kiss, then hugs Evan, surprising the shit out of him.

 

Once she  _ finally  _ leaves, Evan stands beside me awkwardly.  “Are you feeling okay? That’s, I mean, it’s a lot…sorry!  I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything, I mean, I-”

 

I cut him off by snatching his hand in mine, gently tugging him over.  

 

“You were gonna tell me what was going on,” I prompt as he falls back onto the bed.

 

He frowns, but still holds my hand.  “O-oh. Yeah. Um.. I got all these bad memories.  From, from last year.”

 

“What happened last year?” I ask gently, well, as gently as I can, anyway.  “Did someone hurt you?!”

 

Evan looks away, making a small noise, like a whimper.  “Well, n-no, nobody hurt me, well not exactly, I just… it was a rough time, and I had a lot of bad memories from last year, so…”

 

Before I can stop myself, I’m wrapping my arms tightly around him, clutching him to me.  “It’s okay…”

 

“I’m sick of it, you know?  Sick of bothering people, worrying, hurting them… that’s why I wanted to end it all.”  Evan smushes his face into my shoulder, causing his voice to be slightly muffled. 

 

“I know… shhh, I know, Ev.”

 

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I’m being annoying now, too.  You, you just had surgery, I shouldn’t be like this, I’m sorry.”  He doesn’t pull away, though, which I appreciate.

 

Holding him tighter, I shake my head.  “No, it’s okay, I really like having you around.”

 

“I like being with you, too,” he says, barely even a whisper, so soft I almost miss it.

 

I don’t reply, and close my eyes, comforted by his presence.   _ Can this please last forever?  I’m actually  _ happy. _  That’s weird _ .

 

“Do you really care about me?” Evan’s voice is small and careful, like the wrong word will break him.

 

My eyes open, sliding over to look at him.  “Yeah. Yeah, I really do, Ev.”  _ I can’t keep pushing it aside.  _  “I’m sorry I made you say all of that, in front of Jared.  About the letter. I really fucked up, I’m sorry.”

 

This time, he frees himself from my hold, sitting on the end of the bed, facing away from me.  “I’m sorry… yeah.”

 

It hurts too much to sit up again.

 

“Why would you do something- why did you want me to do it?  Why did you read it, why were you so  _ angry _ ?”  Evan’s speaking a bit faster now, and I notice his fingers curl around the sheet.

 

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.  “Will you forgive me? Like, genuinely?  Ever?” I can’t hide the hopefulness in my voice.

 

“I’m not sure, Connor.  I need a little bit longer.  Sorry.”

 

“Alright…”

 

He stands up, sighing, then turns his head.  “Feel better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few days since my last update, huh?
> 
> Look at Connor, turning into a mushy mess around Evan! I wonder if Evan can see the little hearts floating around Connor... or maybe he has some of his own, just scared to acknowledge those feelings.......
> 
> Things have been 'alright' lately, but I know nobody really cares about the author, haha, it's the story that matters! Who even reads the notes? Hm. I wonder how many people actually READ this fic, not just "Oh, lemme see what it's abou- yeah, no, this is lame, bye." I'm rambling, sorry.
> 
> -Jared


	18. Sincerely, Connor Murphy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter where Connor has an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor has more guts than I do. Then again, that's a pretty low bar to set.

I watch the door close behind Evan before I reach around for my journal, trying not to cry out in pain as I move.  Finally, I manage to open to a new page, pencil in a wobbly hand, ready to write.

 

_ “Evan, I-” _

 

_ Nope. _

 

_ “Dear Evan Hansen,” _

 

_ Formal _ .   _ Now what? _

 

_ “-I’m sorry I’m an asshole.” _

 

_ Nice. _

 

_ “I know I really messed up, and I appreciate that you’re giving me another chance.  I don’t really know why I’m writing you this letter, aside from an apology. I guess I should also add that I really do understand what it’s like, hating yourself, going to school miserable.  Meeting you made things better, though. Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea, I just figured you wouldn’t want to talk face to face. I know you probably hate me, which I don’t really blame you for.  I-” _

 

_ What else have I got to lose?  What the hell. I’ll add that, too. _

 

_ “-like you.  Sincerely, me.” _

 

_ That’s a ridiculous way to sign it off.  He might not know it’s me! Well, who else would fucking write him a letter aside from himself?  Fuck it. I erase the last word, and change it to my name _ .

 

_ “Sincerely, Connor Murphy.” _

 

I tap the pencil against my chin and add another line.  

 

_ “P.S. In case you’re too oblivious, or don’t want to believe me with that self-deprecating shit you force upon yourself, I’ll be clearer.  I’m into you. Yes. I’m GAY for you. Fucking accept it. Don’t tell Jared, or else I’m gonna take back your cactus. Talk to you later. Also, I know you don’t feel the same way.  Just thought you deserved to know how I feel. Or maybe I’m too sick of holding it up inside.” _

 

_ Oh well.  I should find a way to get this to him before I chicken out and realise how fucking ridiculous this is. _

 

_ Shit. _

 

_ This is the worst idea I’ve ever had. _

 


	19. The whole world is moving and I'm standing still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets an unexpected visitor.

Thank fucking god I’m excused from Hell Group because of my stupid heart.  I’m not even that bad, really, I’m fine to walk around, sure, but hey, I’ll take an extra free day, why not?

 

It’s been two days now, and Evan hasn’t spoken to me.  Well, a day and a half. Maybe it would’ve been good to go to therapy group so I could see if he’s mad about me reading his letter, or writing  _ him  _ a letter.   _ A fucking  _ love  _ letter _ .  Instead, I have to wait until Monday.  At least I can spend this extra time to think about what I want to say when I see him next.   _ ‘Yeah, sorry I’m crushing on you.’  ‘I know you hate me, but I’ve had fantasies about us making out and I want to make those real.’  ‘Okay, I  _ know  _ I hurt you really badly and broke your trust and said mean things,  _ but _ what if we went out sometime?’  Yeah _ . _  No _ .

 

I lean back, closing my eyes, getting lost in a daydream.  A daydream where I’m not a fucked-up asshole, and Evan doesn’t detest every little thing about me.  Very unrealistic.  _ Evan and I are walking together, laughing, sun on our faces.  As I look around, I recognise the grasses, the tall trees. We’re at the orchard.  We sit down, the breeze tousling our hair as our fingers find their way together. Evan rests his head on my shoulder as I stare out into the distance, the clear blue sky.  It’s a beautiful, perfect day. He turns to me and says he loves me, and I say it back. Our hands separate, and instead, I tackle him to the ground, about to kiss him, I can sense his drawn breath, expectant, his body warm beneath mine, and I lean in, closer, closer, closer, so close- _

 

“Connor?”

 

My eyes spring open, the daydream harshly wiped away by the voice from the doorway.  “Zo?”

 

Zoe has a slight smile on her face as she comes towards me, holding a tote bag over her shoulder.  “How’re you feeling?”

 

Ignoring her question, I crane my neck to look around.  “Are Cynthia and Larry here?”

 

She rolls her eyes, plopping herself down onto a chair.  “You know, they really hate that. When you call them by their first names.”

 

“Why do you think I do it?”

 

Zoe lets the bag slip down her arm, and gets up, moving towards me.

 

“If you hug me, I’m telling Larry you lost one of his precious baseballs,” I threaten, glaring at her.

 

She puts up her hands in defense, and takes another few steps.  “I was seven, first of all. Second of all, fuck off.” 

 

“There she is!” I joke, but honestly, it’s refreshing to have her annoying little butt over here.  

 

“Mom and Dad are fighting  _ again _ so I told them I was gonna hang out with Becca, but I came here,” she says, sitting at the foot of the bed.

 

_ Who the fuck is Becca? _ __   
  


As if to answer me, she huffs, tossing her long hair over her shoulder.  “I  _ hate  _ Becca.  She’s this girl who wants to talk to me only because I have a brother in the hospital.  Pity, or some shit. A ‘popular’ girl, ya know? Her boyfriend is a dick.”

 

“Cynthia would yell at you for that language,” I muse dryly, picturing her gasping, absolutely horrified at her  _ perfect child _ cursing.  I remember how she used to get so shocked when I started cursing, but gave up quickly.

 

Her lips quirk up in a smile, then she reaches up a hand, toying with her hair.  “As I was saying, they were fighting, and I wanted to come here, see how you were doing, I guess.  Fuck, I don’t even know why I’m really here. Hey, I’m surprised you aren’t throwing shit at me,” she adds with a bitter edge.  

 

That shatters my mood instantly, and I feel my shoulders droop.  “Hey, uh, I meant to tell you… I really am sorry I’m a bad brother to you.”

 

“Whatever.”  Her face doesn’t say “whatever”, nor does her tone.  It’s almost…  _ hopeful _ .  Like she wants to believe me, but she doesn’t quite know how.  I get that. I would be the same way if I had someone as messed up as me for a big brother.

 

“Before I, ya know, I thought about you, how much, I like,  _ failed _ you.  I wish I could take it all back.”

 

“I do, too,” she comments softly.  “I really do, too.”

 

“But I can’t,” I conclude.  “Because nothing can take back, what, ten years of asshole-y-ness?” 

 

Zoe looks at me, finally.  “I don’t think that’s a word, Connor.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.  Anyway, I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh, fuck you!” She exclaims, then comes to my side, hugging me, careful not to hurt me.  “I really don’t know what I’d do if you died, Connor… I love you. I just wish you did. Or even if you did, I wished you showed it, you know?  You’re such an ass.”

 

I smile, hugging her back.  “I know. And I do, I really love you.  I couldn’t ask for a more painful sister in the world.”

 

“I’m so touched.”  She pecks my cheek, and I feel her shimmery pink lip gloss leave a mark on my cheek.  I don’t dare wipe it off.

 

“Remember when we used to race to Ida’s?”  _ One of the times we actually acted like proper brother and sister was when we would race to the grocery store, ever since I was nine and she was eight, all the way to when I was twelve and she was eleven.  I would pretend I was taking a short-cut, but really it was the longer way around, and I’d do it to let her win. Her cocky grin whenever she would see me fake-panting from exhaustion was priceless.  _

 

“You would always let me win,” she sighs, pulling away.  “You would buy me those candy sticks, except you would take one from me each time because-”

 

“-I’m the one who paid for them, and therefore I get to take what is rightfully mine,” I finish, on the verge of laughter.

 

Zoe cracks up first, nodding vigorously.  I join in, and I can’t deny how great this feels.   _ If only I wasn’t nasty to her and this could’ve been how it always was _ .  

 

“I can’t believe you remembered,” Zoe says as she brushes tears of laughter from her eyes.  

 

I pat her head, shrugging.  “Well of course. You always got cherry cola,  _ easily  _ the worst one.”

 

“So why did you steal it?” She protests, playfully smacking my arm.  “You had your gross cotton candy, why waste mine!” 

 

_ Why did I?  To piss her off, of course, but… wait…  _ “Zo, when you go home, go to my top drawer in my bedside table.  There, you’ll find your probably half-melted candy shit.”

 

She loses it, roaring with laughter, so hard she can’t even speak, eyes streaming with tears, her face red.  “You- you  _ didn’t _ !” 

 

“Mmhm!” I can hardly control my laughter myself, and it causes a pang in my chest.  From emotion, or my heart, I can’t tell which. “Oh, yes I  _ did _ !” 

 

“Oh my god!” Zoe puts her hands on her knees as she catches her breath.  “Oh, oh, you’re the  _ worst _ !”

 

“C’mere.”  I curve my finger, beckoning her.

 

I wrap my arms around her tightly, enjoying every moment.  I can’t remember the last time, other than, obviously, like  _ minutes  _ ago, that I’ve hugged my sister like this.  Actually,  _ anyone  _ aside from Evan.   _ Evan _ … “I love you, Zoe.  So, so much.” And I mean it.  I really do. 

 

“I love you, too, Connor.  Even if you’ve been hoarding my candy since I was little.”

 

I make a  _ tsk-tsk  _ noise when she sits back.  “ _ My  _ candy,  _ I  _ paid for them,” I remind her.  

 

“Right, right, how could I forget?”

 

I tap my fingers on the mattress beside me.  “Zoe, I wanted to tell you something, actually.”

 

“Yeah?”  She cocks her head.  “What is it?”

 

“Well, um, I’m gay…? And I sorta have a crush on this guy here.”  I admit bashfully.  _ Wow.  Connor Murphy, bashful _ .

 

Zoe literally doesn’t bat an eyelash.  “Cool. I mean, I knew. Not the guy himself, obviously.  But the gay part? Of course.”

 

“ _ What? _ ” I gape at her, wide-eyed.  “ _ Seriously?! _ ” 

 

There’s a moment of silence, then she chuckles.  “‘Course not, you never talk to me, how the  _ hell  _ would I know that?”

 

I stick out my tongue at her.  “ _ Anyway _ , his name is Evan.  Evan Hansen, and-”

 

“Evan  _ Hansen _ ?” Zoe’s jaw drops.  “No. Fucking.  _ Way _ .  The blond loser?  Always-looking-like-someone-murdered-his-puppy Evan Hansen?   _ That  _ one?”

 

“Yes,  _ that  _ one.  How do you know him?”  

 

“He used to linger around after the jazz band concerts.  Always thought he was kinda weird. But if you like him, good for you!  Is he gay, too?”

 

_ Wait.  If he waits after the concerts, does that mean he maybe likes  _ Zoe _?  Does that mean I have zero chance?  Well, I already had zero chance after the shit I’ve done, but still!  _

 

“Uh, I dunno, I doubt it, actually.”  I look down, suddenly feeling even stupider than before for writing the letter.   _ He might not just hate me, he might be  _ disgusted!   _ What if he’s homophobic- what if that’s why he doesn’t speak to me, he finds me gross?! Fuck!  Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck-fuck!  _

 

Zoe just nods.  “I wanted to drop this off, too.  It’s your iPod. I wasn’t sure if they were allowed, but I asked one of the nurses, and she said it was okay.”  

 

“Thanks.”  

 

She goes back to the tote bag, pulling it out, and tossing it to the bed, along with my old earbuds, the bright turquoise ones.  Along with the iPod, the throws a couple of books, one of them sliding off the bed. “Mom doesn’t want you to get bored,” she explains.  “You should be grateful I didn’t let her pack you any vegan, gluten-free, sugar-free, carb-free, fat-free, taste-free shit. I don’t think food from outside is allowed, anyway.”

 

“I assume her cooking hasn’t improved?” I raise an eyebrow, and she makes a gagging face.

 

“I should just check myself in here to get some  _ real  _ food,” she says, crossing her arms.  “Sorry,” Zoe adds, catching herself. “That wasn’t cool.” 

 

“You haven’t said anything about my scars,” I realise out loud.  And then I mentally slap myself for saying it.

 

She looks at me, but not looking  _ at  _ me.  “Do you want me to?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good.  Because I don’t.  I don’t really care, either.  It’s not really any of my business, so, whatever.” 

 

_ Honest _ .  “Wow, you should tell everyone else in the world to mind their own fucking business, too,” I say sarcastically.

 

“Mm.  I have to go, apparently Mrs. Larson doesn’t understand the concept of ‘too much homework,’ so I have to slave away for the next five hours straight on AP chem.”  Zoe picks up her bag, then kisses my cheek. “I love you, Connor. Please, get better, okay? You’re not a shitty brother anymore.”

 

“I love you, too, Zo.  I’m sorry for being a shitty brother, but… maybe the candy sticks will make up, for like, a month of shittiness?”

 

She smiles.  “Maybe even two months if they aren’t melted or covered in dirt… I’ll see you later!”

 

I wave to her, then reach for my iPod.  I stick in the earbuds, then scroll through my music, already feeling better to have the familiar device in my hands.  

 

_ ‘Everything that I said I'd do, like make the world brand new, and take the time for you.  I just got lost and slept right through the dawn, and the world spins madly on…’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a long update since I'm not sure when I'll update again. 
> 
> Also, thanks for 1k+ hits! It may not seem very big, but it's the most I've ever gotten, and I'm really grateful. 
> 
> -Jared 
> 
> P.S. If anyone's interested, there's a short fic I wrote yesterday about Evan on that one summer day...


	20. Glitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor secretly cares about his sister. And art. And Evan.

It’s Monday.  Cynthia and Larry came by to give me some clothes yesterday, but that was just about as much excitement as I got.  Oh, and my heart has improved, so, like, I’m not forced to stay in bed all day, I can do shit now. And by shit, I mean group.   _ Evan _ .  My breakfast was alright,  _ way  _ better than anything Cynthia can make, it was a kind of rubbery omelet with burnt potato chunks that I drowned in ketchup.  It was  _ delicious _ .  Still, it’s hard to keep down, knowing that I’m gonna have to face him.  It’s weird,  _ really  _ weird, not speaking to him.  It hurts.  _  He must be ignoring me, he hates me, he’s gonna cry if I approach him _ .

 

When I got dressed this morning, I wore some of the new clothes brought from home.  I didn’t bother with ‘style,’ so I’m wearing soft black sweatpants and a sweatshirt.  It’s a bit hot inside, so I decided not to wear a t-shirt underneath it. I like the familiar feeling of sweatshirt material on not only the scars on my arm, but also the one on my chest as a result of the surgery.  

 

There’s a few hours until group, and I think that it means that everything is alright, that I can just go stay in my room for the rest of the day… yeah.  No such luck. Some familiar guy who I guess runs the department of fuckups in this hospital appears in the cafeteria to inform us that in the next hour, some lady will be coming by to do something with us.  Of course, he told us who that ‘some lady’ is, and what that ‘something’ is, but I didn’t care to listen.

 

I make my way to the activity room, finding a seat as far away from where the others will sit as possible.  There, I take a nap.

 

When I wake up, a handful of people come in, maybe three people from group, some others, but no Evan.  There’s a woman, I guess she’s late twenties, dressed in hipster clothing, a big smile on her face as she hauls a massive bag of  _ stuff _ .

 

“Yo, everyone!” She says, waving.  “My name is Caroline, and I’m here to do some art with you guys!”  Caroline rolls up her flannel sleeves, revealing a shitload of tattoos.  “Anyone here like to do art?”

 

A boy I’ve never seen before, maybe twenty, twenty-one, raises his hand, as does Leslie from group.

 

“Neato!”  Caroline claps her hands, and spots me.  “What’s your name?”

 

“Connor,” I state, fixing her with a withering look to silently inform her that I do  _ not  _ want to be treated like a stupid kid while I’m here.  

 

Caroline waves her arm, apparently not getting the message.  “Connor, please come over here to join us, okay?”

 

I do so, after a couple of minutes to see if it’ll piss her off, but she’s patient.  

 

Once we’re all at the massive plastic table, the kind that has a pattern to look like it’s made of wood on top, she dumps out the bag.

 

A waterfall of bottles of glitter, pom-poms, pipe cleaners, markers, crayons, sequins, and a plastic-wrapped ream of construction paper fall to the table.  

 

Everyone else eagerly reaches out for the colourful supplies, but I don’t move.

 

When I was young, I would draw.  I used to love it, but I got too jealous, too jealous of the kids that were better than me, how after a couple of years, I stopped getting the attention.  I wasn’t the “talented” one anymore. Nobody wanted to see what I was drawing anymore. Eventually, I grew to appreciate the freedom, but man, it took a while.  By that time, I lost interest. Zoe became the talent, able to play like three different instruments, draw,  _ and  _ write.  I  _ hated  _ that.  I have a vague memory of pouring mud all over her electric keyboard.  It took  _ weeks  _ for it to be cleaned, and by that time, it didn’t work that well.  I got in big trouble for that. 

 

“Connor, you don’t like art?”  Caroline speaks, and I look up, annoyed, from where I was staring blankly at the table.

 

I don’t do or say anything.  I don’t say yes or no, no nodding or shaking my head.

 

She sits down beside me without invitation, and reaches forward, taking a piece of paper and a purple marker from the pile.  “Sometimes, I like to start off simple, and see where I go from there. Draw what’s on your mind, Connor,” she suggests.

 

Huffing, I uncap the marker, setting the tip to the page.  I watch as the purple dot grows, the paper becoming soaked by the purple ink.  I already can tell it’s staining the table underneath. Picking up the marker from the page, I take a moment to think.  

 

Once I started, you couldn’t have stopped me even if you tried.  Nothing could. 

 

I draw swooping lines of hair, short strokes to imitate shading, curved lines of the features, lines to show the movement of a body, the gracefulness of it.  

 

There’s a presence behind me, and I turn to see Caroline leaning over me.  “That’s beautiful, Connor,” she says, putting a hand on my back. I wish she wouldn’t touch me, but for the first time in a while, I’m feeding off of the compliment.  

 

It makes me go faster, faster, feeling the passion in my fingers.  How strange it is, to hate yourself so much, denying any sort of compliments, but there’s one time you’ll get a compliment, and you’ll genuinely appreciate it because you know the person giving it isn’t making it up, they truly mean it.  Something like that makes a warmth grow inside you. By some weird way of nature, I’m starting to smile. I’m starting to relax. I’m starting to actually… enjoy myself. 

 

I’m done with the body, but no, it’s not enough, not yet.  I grab a bottle of glue, pouring some out, spreading it around the figure, then I take a pot of the silver glitter, sprinkling the shimmery dust around.  Shaking off the excess glitter, I look back at the image. There, Zoe stands, playing the violin, the most recent instrument she chose to pick up, surrounded by swirls of silver, highlighting her body and the music.   _ It’s beautiful, it really captures her _ .

 

A few people are looking at it now, their eyes wide.  

 

“Connor, that’s stunning!”

 

“Is that your girlfriend?  I’m sure she’s gonna love it!”

 

“Is that a violin?”

 

“Wow!”

 

“So pretty!” 

 

I look down, hiding my blush, and pick up a blue marker, starting a new one.  Even if I don’t give it to him, at least I’ll have him by my side… in a drawing, anyhow.  

 

It may be even better than the Zoe image.  I drew Evan, just his face this time, working on the details I can remember, surrounding his head with flowers.  These I make up, since I know nothing about flowers, but… I think it’s something he would like. If I even see him again.  With a pen, I draw, as small as I possibly can, in the center of his pupil, a tiny, tiny heart.  _ There _ . _  Done _ .

 

I don’t even realise the activity is over until I’m finished with Evan, and I look up at last to see it’s just Caroline and me.  She’s standing to the side, watching me with an amused expression. “I guess you really like art then, hm?”

 

Instead of answering, I pick up my drawings, folding them to fit into my pocket.  Zoe’s drawing will probably shed glitter, filling my pockets, but whatever. I leave, a proud smile on my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, sorry.
> 
> It's been a rough week, but whatever. 
> 
> I'll try and post more frequently, but I haven't had too much time to write, unfortunately. I'm really sorry.
> 
> -Jared


	21. He can't possibly like me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor finally sees Evan, but he seems a little off.

Evan’s already at the group when I first arrive.  I’m the last one there; I spent a good five minutes battling with a vending machine just to get a fucking Nutri-Grain bar, so the only spot left is between him and Helen.  Evan doesn’t look at me, and I see he isn’t wearing the bracelet.

 

 _That hurts_.

 

He’s… _oh my god, is he talking to someone?_ The guy from our activities session, the one who raised his hand saying he likes art.  Evan looks really happy, not as nervous and scared as he was when he was talking to me when we first met.   _Then again, I must’ve looked horrifying_ .  I turn my attention to the boy.  He has a bit of muscle, I notice, and a few tattoos.  I’ll admit it, he’s quite attractive. His dark brown skin contrasts nicely with his pale pink shirt and pastel yellow shorts.   _He’s the opposite of me, all soft and cutesy, like Evan.  Probably_ perfect _for Evan_.  I can’t deny the jealousy twisting inside me, making me clench my fists.

 

Helen brings me back, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.  “Everyone, I would like it if we could reintroduce ourselves, we have a new member!”

 

Everyone goes through, same deal, name, fact about self, whatever.  The new guy’s name is Aiden, and apparently he wants to be a doctor, been through training and all that.  He has a few scars on his arms, which is interesting. I always find those people who show off their scars to be incredibly brave, but also stupid.  Why have them out? You’re gonna get made fun of! I used to be told that if I was so worried about people seeing my scars, I should just stop. Right, like it’s _that_ easy.  Same went for during the summertime; _‘You’re gonna overheat, just stop cutting, wait for the scars to heal, that way you can wear short sleeves and be okay!’ Easy for you to say._

 

We learn more skills, but I keep watching Evan and Aiden.  Every time Aiden brushes against Evan, or makes him laugh, I have to bite my tongue.  I bite my tongue so many times within the two hours that I’m surprised I’m not bleeding.

 

After it ends, I slip myself between the two as they walk out of the room together.

 

“Hey, Adrien!” I say, putting on a big fake smile, sticking out my hand for him to shake.

 

He laughs, this perfect, hearty laugh, and takes my hand.  “Actually, it’s _Aiden_.  You’re Connor, right?”

 

Instead of confirming, I put my arm around Evan, who flinches.  “So, you two are friends, huh?”

 

Evan carefully inches out of my hold, and looks down at the floor, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie.  “Ai-Aiden, I-I, I, we should just, uh, wh-what if we go ahead to-to my room, okay? I have, um, a deck, a deck of cards?”

 

Fighting off a growl in the back of my throat, I completely ignore Aiden now, leaning down to Evan.  “Hey, you got my letter?”

 

Evan doesn’t answer, and starts walking a bit faster.  “Aiden, we also, we also could, um, I got a couple of these, uh, these crossword puzzles, if you like those?”

 

I give Aiden another fake smile.  “Can I speak to you please?” I whisper to Evan, reaching down to take his hand.

 

He nods ever so slightly, then drops my hand.  “Ai- Aiden, I’m sorry, I-I h-have to speak with C-Connor about something, but I’ll, uh, I’ll s-see you tomorrow?”

 

Aiden nods, looking perfectly understanding, and waves to us.  Once he’s out of view, I grab Evan’s hand again, pulling him to my room without looking back.  

 

I close the door, then turn to him, suddenly feeling nervous.  “Evan, I, I, did you get my letter? What’s your answer? I know it was stupid, but, but please, talk to me?”

 

He reaches into his pocket, and takes out my letter.  “I got your letter.”

 

“And?” I prompt, moving closer.

 

“Connor, I..”

 

That’s when it really sinks in.   _Of course he doesn’t like me!  I’m horrible! And now he has this new friend, someone good for him.  After what I’ve done, how could he possibly like me?_ I drop his hand, feeling ashamed.  “Sorry. I’ll let you go.”

 

He shakes his head.  “No, Connor, it’s just, well, I…”

 

 _Just go away.  That would be easier than to hear you straight-up say you don’t like me_.  “You like Aiden, don’t you?  Hell, you probably like Zoe, you wait after concerts for her.  You don’t like me. This is stupid.”

 

“Stupid- Just listen to me!” He exclaims.  “I-I was trying to avoid you because I thought you were kidding,” Evan whispers.  “Nobody really has ever liked me. I was scared. And I, I’m scared of my, of my _own_ f-feelings.”

 

 _Okay, now I’m really confused_.  “Evan, what-”

 

“I like you, too, okay?!” He claps a hand over his mouth as soon as he says it.  “S-sorry… no, it’s just, I, I do, but I’m scared, and-and, I don’t know how I really should feel because you hurt me, bu-but I find you really attractive- but I’m not shallow!  I don’t like you just because you’re hot! Shit, no, I, I think you’re nice, an-and sensitive, and really charming, but.. but I’m scared to get h-hurt a-a-again!”

 

 _Hot, nice, sensitive, charming_ … I can’t stop myself.  This is so surreal, and who knows when I’ll ever get another opportunity.  I lean in, placing a hand on his cheek, pressing him up against the wall. He stares back, not frightened or acting as if he doesn’t want this, but just… stunned.

 

I bring another hand up, this one to his hair, sliding my fingers through his blond strands.  “You’re so fucking cute,” I mumble.

 

And that’s when I kiss him.

 

\----

His lips are soft against mine, and I can tell he’s nervous.  I press my lips deeper, moving my body closer, holding him tighter.  After achingly long seconds, he’s kissing me back.

 

_This is… this is actually happening._

 

Evan’s hands are awkward, fumbling around, eventually settling in my hair.  Every time I kiss him more, his grip on my hair tightens, driving me _nuts_.

 

After a blissful ten seconds or so, he pulls away, his face bright red.  

 

“So, you really like me?” I ask, my hands still holding his face as I scan his eyes for an answer.

 

“Really like…” he echoes softly.  “Ye-yeah, I really l-like you!”

 

I drop my hands from his face, moving them to his waist.  “Oh my fucking god, Evan, you really are the cutest thing in the world.”

 

Evan quickly presses himself against me, throwing his arms around my neck as he kisses my cheek.  “I-I think you're pretty!” He exclaims, then shakes his head. “Wait, wait, pretty is, pretty is more of a feminine thing, well, I guess it doesn't really matter, does it matter?  I guess you're, uh, you're beautiful, or, um… handsome? G-gorgeous? Sorry, I'm really bad at g-giving compliments, I, uh…” he trails off, biting his lip.

 

 _I would do fucking anything to bite that- wait, what?!  No, Connor, stop! Just cute little kisses, that's all Evan would be comfortable with, right?  Right. No intense makeout sessions involving tongue and teeth, or even_ ... _Oh, god, as if he’d even want to have_ sex _with me ever!_

 

“I, um, I think pretty works just fine,” I stammer out at last, fighting off the urge to kiss him again.

 

He grins, then points to my pockets.  “What's that?”

 

I follow his gaze down to the pieces of paper sticking out slightly and smile.  I reach in, taking them out. The first one is Zoe’s, and some glitter automatically spills out onto the floor.  

 

Evan’s eyes widen as he reaches forward, dragging a finger across the rough glittery parts.  “That's really cool! You're so good at drawing!”

 

Once I open up the other one, his, he lets out a soft gasp.  “This is, this is so nice! It looks _just_ like me!”

 

I nudge it closer to him, grinning.  “I made it for you earlier!”

 

Excitedly, he takes the paper from me, staring down at the drawing.  “Con, it's amazing, thank you!”

 

 _Con_ … _so cute_.

 

“Well, yeah, of cour-”

 

I'm cut off by his mouth on mine, kissing me firmly again.

 

 _Oh_.

 

I grasp his hip in my hands as I can feel _him_ gently guiding _me_ towards the bed.  I stumble, landing on my back as he falls on top of me, still kissing me.

 

_Am I dreaming?_

 

I allow my hands to roam across his body, dragging along his back, his sides.  

 

And then the door opens.

 

There, in all his fucking glory, is Larry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to push through with updating for everyone.
> 
> Thanks, everyone. You've really made me happy, you know that? Your support means the world.


	22. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor isn't very happy when Larry comes by, and Larry doesn't like what he sees.

With a yelp, Evan rolls off of me, toppling ungracefully to the floor, eyes wide in fear, looking back between me, my father, me, my father, and back again to me, trying to figure out just what the hell is going on.

 

Evan doesn't run away like I expect him to, however, just stays there, on the ground.

 

Larry hardly does so much as glances at him before focusing on me.  “So, having  _ fun _ here?”

 

“What do you want?” I ask, sitting up, ready to throw a pillow at him.  (It's the best I can do with what I have nearby, okay?)

 

“I  _ came  _ to check on my son, making sure he's alright, but it appears as if he's doing just fine!  What a waste of my fucking money, sending you to a place where you can just fuck boys whenever you feel like it, fuck any sort of poor boys who go to you because of your  _ money _ .”

 

My fist tightens around the soft pillow by my side.  “I'm doing just fine without  _ you _ .  And don't fucking talk about  _ him  _ like that, either!” I threaten.

 

Larry finally takes in Evan, who looks like he's about to cry, shaking in fear.  “Kid, you fucking my son because you want his money, huh? Because you're that fucked up that you'll run into the comforting arms of anyone you can?”

 

Evan is frozen, not speaking, too scared.

 

“Larry, leave him alone!” I demand, breathing hard now.  “He hasn't done anything wrong, and we  _ aren't  _ having sex!  We just fucking  _ kissed _ !”

 

Evan, seeming to gain some sort of control over himself at last, manages to stand up.  “S-sir, I'm sorry if I did any-anything to offend you,” he says, his voice quivering.

 

To my surprise, Larry actually settles.  A bit, anyway. “Both of you, screwed up little kids,” he huffs.  

 

“Why are you even here?  Really?” I instinctively reach a hand out, taking Evan’s in mine.

 

“Because believe it or not, I actually care about you!  You're my son!” He says in defense, face turning a fiery red.

 

I scoff, feeling tears in my eyes, but I'm comforted by Evan’s hand in mine.  “Right, sure sounds like you cared when you, literally a minute ago, were accusing me of having sex with everyone in this fucking asylum!  Or how about that time, three years ago?”

 

At those words, he pales.  Larry fucking Murphy actually  _ pales _ .  “Connor, wait, okay?  I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”

 

“You said I was just looking for attention!  Just looking for attention when I first told you and Cynthia I wanted to fucking kill myself!”

 

“Connor-”

 

Just like with the drawings, once I start, I can't stop.  Nor do I even want to. “Your son, your very own  _ son _ comes to  _ you  _ saying he's scared and depressed and hates his life!  And what do you do? You say ‘he just wants  _ attention _ .’”

 

Larry looks ashamed, another thing I've never seen.  “I'm sorry.”

 

Sighing, I shake my head.  “It's too fucking late. But you can still apologise to  _ him _ .”  I nod my head towards Evan, whose hand, I can tell, is getting sweaty in mine from nerves.

 

“Kid, I'm-”

 

“Evan,” I interrupt.  “His name is  _ Evan _ .”

 

Larry clears his throat, nodding.  “Right.  _ Evan _ .  I am truly sorry for making such bold and horrendous accusations.”

 

“It's okay,” Evan whispers, but I can see his lower lip trembling.  

 

“No, it's not,” I say loudly, squeezing his hand.  “Can you please leave?”

 

Larry looks like he wants to say something, but instead just sighs.  “I'm sorry I ruined everything. Connor, son, I.. I do love you, you know?  I'm happy you have someone here to help you feel better, too.” 

 

I notice Evan is taking deep breaths, trying not to cry, and I nudge him closer to Larry.

 

“Mr. Murphy, I, um… I really care about Connor, okay?  He's... I know he cares about me, too. He may have a temper sometimes, yes, but he can be really charming!  And, um, well… I really like him, so…”. Evan squeezes my hand. “You're very lucky to have a son like him, someone who has a lot of love in his heart.”

 

I gape at Evan, but neither of them can tell.

 

“Hear that, Connor?  You got yourself someone who cares about you.”  Larry gives me a tired smile. “I'm sorry, I never was there for you.  It will take time, patience, perseverance, and a whole lot of strength, but.. if you'll let me, maybe we can fix it?”

 

As much as I want to tell him to fuck off, I can't.  I nearly lost everyone. Killing myself would've left me all alone, dark, swimming amongst the stars in the dark, dark velvet night.  Nobody around. But I'm alive now. I have another chance to not be a dick. Evan gave me a chance, Zoe gave me a chance, and, now, now my dad and I will give each other a chance.

 

I readjust my hand holding onto Evan’s.  “Sure, Dad. Let's fix it.”

 

*****

 

The three of us stay in my room, just talking.  Larry- er-  _ Dad _ rambles on about baseball.  I told Evan if he got annoying he could tell him to shut up, but Evan is one of those people who will politely listen to a speech about how the toothpick was invented, so we sit through stories after stories.

 

When it's time for him to leave, Dad shakes Evan’s hand and pats him on the back.  “You're a nice guy, son. I'm sure your dad is real lucky to have a kid like you. Even if he never taught you why the Orioles are the best team in baseball history,” he adds with a wink.

 

Evan blushes and shrugs.  “Y-yeah, I guess he is.”

 

There's a pause, then Evan’s head jerks up.  “I- I don't know why I said that? Um, my dad actually left years ago, uh, b-but I guess my mom can be considered pretty lucky?”

 

Dad chuckles.  “She sure is! Your dad doesn't know what he's missing, though.  Missing out on a life with a great kid like you.” He says the last sentence sadly as he catches my eye.  “And of course, Connor is lucky to have you as a friend, Evan.”

 

I put my hand on Evan’s lower back, nodding.  “I'm lucky to have someone like Evan,” I agree.  “I'll… I'll see you later, Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to post a lot of stuff now, I'm not gonna be able to do much over the next week, probably.
> 
> Um, this is kinda selfish, but uhhh.... my birthday is this Tuesday? The 25th? I would love it if you guys gifted me little fics or fan art of your own, something..... I dunno, I've been feelin' shitty. Sorry, I'm being selfish, I know.
> 
> Anyway, as always, keep commenting, they make my day, and I love you all. You make me truly happy and I don't feel alone. 
> 
> I'm sounding really fucking sappy now, aren't I? Sorry. I'm tired.
> 
> -Jared.


	23. (I am a) Mistake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan POV
> 
> Connor starts to freak out that he will mess up this relationship, but Evan assures him that he will stay by his side and loves him.
> 
> Ft. lots of comforting kisses between these two

 

Connor sighs, hugging his legs to his chest on his bed once his dad leaves.  I snuggle close, putting a hesitant hand on his back.

 

“Are you- I mean, is- I- you.. Okay?” (Wow, so eloquent.)

 

He shrugs, and sniffles, and that’s when I realise he’s crying.  

 

It’s risky, but I sweep his hair to the side, kissing the back of his warm, slightly sweaty neck.  I rub his back, just like how my mom used to do when I’d have a nightmare. “Con…”

 

Connor turns to me at last, wiping his red eyes.  “You’re too fucking nice, Evan, you know that? C’mere.”  He kisses me, and I can feel his sticky tears against my cheek.  I hold him tightly, breathing him in. 

 

_ I can’t believe he actually likes me… I got so scared when I got his letter, I thought it would be another stupid joke _ .  

 

“Evan, I’m.. fuck, I’m so ruined,” he sighs, another round of tears slipping down his cheeks.  

 

Frowning, I wipe the tears away, then kiss his cheek.  “No, you aren’t. I, um, do you want me to go, by the way?  Did you want time alone?”

 

“No, no!” He pleads, grabbing onto me.  “Don’t go!” His eyes are wide with fear and pain, so scared.  

 

Startled, I nod.  “Okay, I, I’ll stay.”

 

“Thank you…”  Connor starts to cry harder, shaking his head.  “F-fuck, Evan, I’m so sorry I’m a fuckup, I know...”  He curls himself up into a ball, lying on his side, shaking, huddled in what I notice is a slightly-too-big sweatshirt.  

 

I lie beside him, holding him.  “Don’t apologise, I said, it’s okay.  You’re alright, Connor, I’m here, shh…”

 

_ Odd, how.. How I’m comforting him.  I never quite expected this _ .   _ But.. maybe I have expected the tears.  It makes me how we were in the same class in first grade.  He always used to cry. People teased him. Back then, he wouldn’t fight back with curses or fists _ .  _ We had classes together sometimes, but… never spoke.  Make sense, anyhow. Who would want to talk to me, right? _

 

Suddenly, Connor cries out, loudly, an agonising scream of heartache.  

 

“Connor?” I ask, worried, putting a cautious hand on his shoulder.  

 

“GAHH!”  He curls up tighter, tighter, tighter.  “Fuck!” It’s not an aggressive ‘fuck!’, but a worn-out and tired-of-it-all ‘fuck!’.  “Fuck…”

 

“Connor-”

 

“All I do is ruin shit!”  He yanks his hood over his head tightly, gripping onto the fabric, holding it in place.  “It’s all I am, really! I can’t help it, I ruin people’s lives. I ruined Zoe, I ruined fucking Larry-  _ Dad _ \- And now I’m gonna ruin  _ you _ , the best thing that’s ever happened in my life!”

 

I gently pull the hood away from his face, and begin, for some stupid reason, to play with his hair.  It appears to calm him, so I continue, absentmindedly braiding together strands of his hair, not really caring that the braids are all lumpy and different sizes.  I don’t think Connor minds, either. “You haven’t ruined me,” I say simply. “And, um, I don’t think you’ve ruined your sister or your dad.”

 

“I was supposed to be a good son, a good brother, a good part of the perfect Murphy’s, but I’m not.”

 

I press another kiss to his cheek, then another for good measure.

 

“I can’t believe you even like me,” he continues, mumbling.  “I  _ really _ messed up with you.  And yet you’re still here.”

 

“Because it’s okay.  Because I forgive you, because I understand you.  Because I  _ like _ you.”

 

He rolls over, facing me, a sad smile on his face.  “You’re- just... There’s no words for you, Ev.”

 

His slight beard tickles my chin as he briefly kisses me.  When we break the kiss, he puts an arm around me, drawing me close, and I wrap my arms around him, my face on his chest, smelling a faint scent of smoke, even though I’m sure this has been washed so many times.

 

“When did you make those drawings?” I ask softly, gazing up at him.

 

For a second, he looks confused, then smirks.  “We had some stupid arts activity thing earlier.  Wait, you weren’t there!”

 

At that, I wince.  “Oh, y-yeah, I.. uh.”   _ My mind flashes back to me reading Connor’s letter, then freaking out, so bad to the point I ended up throwing up.  After that, Mom went to me and comforted me, but she never asked why I threw up, probably just thinking I was sick like any other normal person.  Normal is not throwing up from nerves.  _ “I was sick,” is all I say.  

 

“Oh.”  After a moment, he asks another question.  “Who’s Aiden?”

 

_ Do I detect a twinge of  _ jealousy  _ in his voice?   _ “Um, he’s… uh…”   _ Nobody, just someone who found me still shaking after Mom had to go tend to an emergency patient because after she comforted me I was still scared, but it’s no biggie _ .  “He’s.. just someone.”

 

“Eh, alright.”  Connor takes my hand.  

 

“Vivian Maier,” I say unprompted, surprising both Connor and myself.

 

“Huh?”  

 

“There was this woman, Vivian Maier,” I explain.  “She.. she was like... uh.. Van Gogh, except less famous. Sh-she didn’t cut off her ear, or anything, but, uh, she wasn’t really appreciated until after she died.  I guess I just had been thinking of people who- well, they aren’t burned-out stars. They didn’t disappear. And, um, well, I guess, like, you won’t either?”  It hits me what I’m implying, and I hurry to fix my error. “I, I meant like, like, uh, if you did, um, if you  _ did  _ kill yourself, or, or when you do die when you’re old, um…”  _ Shut up, or get to the fucking point! _  “Um, you aren’t like what you expected.  You wouldn’t burn out and disappear. You’re a star that won’t ever be forgotten.”   _ God, why am I being so fucking mushy? _

 

Connor turns pink and blinks at me.  “Evan-”

 

“For-forget it.  Um, I just. I guess all I’m saying here is that you really matter to me.”  I hold his hand up to my face. “You didn’t ruin me. Or anyone else. You’re human, okay?  We all make mistakes. I like you no matter those mistakes, no matter how hard you try to explain why you ‘suck’.”

 

He turns a darker shade of pink.  Before I can say another word, he kisses me sloppily, as if he wants to convey his feelings through a kiss, but doesn’t quite know how.  Or maybe that’s just me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thanks for you guys who shared some INCREDIBLE art and fanfiction!
> 
> Second, I wanted to put another chapter since it's been a couple of days. Really... really tough week. But that doesn't matter! What matters is that you are all happy, so have another (depressing) chapter! 
> 
> I love you all so much.
> 
> -Jared


	24. Burning lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan wonder what would happen if their suicide attempts succeeded.
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: suicide, self-harm.

“Did I ever tell you about that time in second grade I threw a printer at Mrs. G?” is the first thing out of Connor’s mouth after we stop kissing.  

 

Unable to help myself, I chuckle.  “S-sorry, yeah, I do, well, not exactly, just… everyone kinda knows?”

 

He smiles ruefully, and I can tell he’s traveling back in his memories.  “I didn’t get to be line leader,” he scoffs. “So,  _ so _ stupid!  I guess.. I guess I got caught up in trying to keep things controlled, keep things in order, making sure everything was the way it was supposed to be.  I was supposed to be line leader, but Mrs. G, well, I guess she messed up. And that messed  _ me  _ up!”  Connor halts, and tilts his head.  “I think that was one of the first times I got really hot.  Whenever I get distressed, I feel this sort of burning inside of me.  The day I tried to…  _ ahem _ , well, that’s when I felt like I was on fire, too much…” He trails off, and I use my other hand to pat his leg.  

 

_ Burning?  That’s interesting _ . _  I always feel like I’m drowning _ . _  Drowning in salty seawater _ . _  When I was in the tree, I could feel the seawater filling my lungs _ ,  _ but it never goes all the way.  Just enough to hurt, but never enough to kill _ .   _ Maybe Connor also feels like he’s drowning sometimes.   _

 

Connor rolls up a sleeve, and offers me his arm.  “Burning,” he says under his breath.

 

_ Literally _ … 

 

He shrugs.  “I cut, but.. Burning, it… it makes the internal burning, like, seem less intense if I make there be physical burning? It distracts me.”

 

My heart shatters, and my lips graze over the burn marks, which makes him smile.

 

“ _ Anyway _ , I ended up shoving the printer at her, and.. And everyone was fucking  _ staring  _ at me.  Staring at the  _ fuckup _ .  From then on, that was my legacy.  ‘Connor Murphy? Oh, yeah, you mean the kid who threw a printer at Mrs. G in second grade?  Yeah, man, he’s messed up, ain’t he?’” He laughs humorlessly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.  “But what people don’t know is that from that day on, Mrs. G actually was nice to me. She  _ helped _ me.  Isn’t that weird?”

 

I don’t respond.  I’m not sure I’m even supposed to right now.

 

“If I did die, what do you think my funeral would be like?  I mean, yeah, I’d have my family, maybe, but, you think Mrs. G would come?  I think she actually cared about me.”

 

I wish I could say I was the slightest bit disturbed by Connor’s thoughts, but I’m not.  I’ve thought the same thing. I wonder if other people do. “I think my mom would be there for mine.  Maybe Jared, oh, and my grandparents. I wonder if my therapist would. Maybe he would feel embarrassed, like he ‘failed’, or like he couldn’t stop me.  But it wouldn’t be his fault. I don’t know whose fault it would really be, though.”

 

Connor leans against me.  “I wonder if Dad would cry.  He never cries. You heard what I said that he said when I told my parents I wanted to die.  I don’t think he’d care.”

 

“He would.  I saw how he looked at you.  He cares about you.” My voice comes out hollow, and I look at the wall.  It’s an off-white, a sort of bluish-gray. “I wonder if my dad would even come.  Or if he’d even know I died.”

 

“Did you think about that when you.. you know?”

 

I nod.  “Of course.  In those last moments, you think of your loved ones.  Did- didn’t you?”

 

“Yeah, yeah I did.  I guess you’re right.”

 

“Would he come, or would he just send a note saying ‘Sorry for your loss’ to my mom?  Send a bouquet?” 

 

Connor doesn’t answer.  It’s okay, though. I don’t expect him to.

 

“You wouldn’t be there, either,” I realise.  “Because I’d just be that kid in some of your classes throughout the years.”

 

“Don’t say that!” he snaps.  “Of course I’d be there.”

 

I glance at him, then my eyes dart away again.  “No. No, it’s okay, I know you wouldn’t. And I guess the truth is, is that I wouldn’t be at yours either.  Because we’d really just be strangers. When I sat in that tree, I.. I thought about how nobody would really miss me if I was gone.  Mom, grandparents, maybe Jared. But that’s it. That’s really it because I’m a loner. That’s the sad truth. When nobody knows you… nobody misses you.  And maybe that’s a good thing. Because then you won’t hurt anyone when you leave the world.”

 

His eyes blaze when I look back at him, those steely blue eyes.  “Shut up!”

 

I flinch.

 

“No, sorry, I… I know you’re right.  I want to think of you as another ‘star who won’t vanish’, but that’s because I care about you.  If I didn’t know you, I.. I guess you’re right. After one of us died, the other would be able to move on easily.  I don’t want to think about you dying, Evan, I love you too much.”

 

“I’m happy you’re alive, I- wait.”

 

His words sink in to the both of us.

 

He doesn’t look like he’s about to take them back, and I don’t think I want him to.  I came so close to dying, to losing what possible future I may have. Fuck it. Life is so damn short, I just… I don’t even care what happens tomorrow.  

 

“I love you, too.  I don’t care that this is so fucking sudden, but… I do.  I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped the ending of the chapter made up for:
> 
> a) how bad the fic is (seriously, I know it is)  
> b) how I've slowed down (sort-of) in updating  
> c) the content of the chapter and previous ones  
> d) me
> 
> A lot of this, I now notice, I have taken from another fic of mine... 'Here I come!' Sorta. Also talks about Evan's dad in (what he believes to be) his last moments. Come to think of it, perhaps that fic could be Evan's beginning, his side of the story before he came to the hospital. Hm. 
> 
> In those moments, the first person (or people) you tend to think of are the ones you least expect to miss you, the ones you wonder if you will ever impact, or if you have, if they will even care. Evan thinks about that, and so does Connor: who would notice if I burned out tomorrow? Would anyone?


	25. Don't hold back, I want to break free.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor's POV
> 
> Memories of an ex-boyfriend bother Connor, potentially threatening his relationship with Evan.
> 
>  
> 
> *contains spoilers about the novel, I'm sorry.*

I sigh, holding Evan in my scarred arms.  We didn’t do anything aside from making out, but I took off my sweatshirt.  We both did. “I want to play you a song I like,” I say, reaching around for my iPod.  I select a song, one I can’t remember why I even like it so much, where I even first heard it, but for some reason, it nags at my brain.  I hand him an earbud and press play to Perfume Genius’s ‘Slip Away.’

 

He seems to like it, and snuggles close.

 

“I’m really scared,” I murmur once the song finishes and we’re left with silence.  “I.. I had a boyfriend. Years ago.” I’m not even sure why I wanted to bring this up.   _ I can’t even say his name, it hurts too badly _ .   _ Thankfully, Evan doesn’t ask _ .  “He.. I hid from him, Evan.  That’s what ruined us. I didn’t want to let him in because I was too scared I’d hurt him.  And now I’ve let you in. I don’t want to hurt you, either.”

 

Evan runs his fingers through my hair as he looks back at my face.  “Hurt.. Connor, I… I’m so scared that you’re gonna run, too. I thought you were screwing with me with your letter, but then I also thought that if you really  _ were _ being honest that maybe you’d hate me once you saw the real me.”  He gestures towards his own scars as he says this. “Honestly, though, I’m like a disease that infects people,  _ I  _ ruin people.”

 

“I would never, I could never hate you,” I say truthfully, a bit hurt he would ever think that.  But maybe he feels the same way, maybe I’m being unfair to him because I was thinking that same thing.  “I love you no matter what, okay? Fuck, I do.”

 

His soft pink lips curve up slightly, and his fingers drift towards my face, my neck, my chest.  “I love you, too. And I will never hate you, either.”

 

I reach a hand to his neck, but it’s perfectly clear and smooth.   _ Why did I ever think _ … _?  _ A finger grazes over where a birthmark should be, and the absence makes me draw in a trembling breath.  

 

He seems to sense that there’s something wrong, and he furrows his eyebrows.  “Con? Did- did I do, did I say or do something wrong?”

 

“No, it’s not you,” I mumble, closing my eyes.  “It’s not you.”  _ It’s not you, you’re not him, he’s not you…  _

 

“Con…”   _ He sounds so worried it kills me _ .

 

“It’s fine!” I snap a little too loudly, which makes him jump.  “Sorry, no, it’s.. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

 

Evan looks a bit hurt, but stays, resting his head beside mine, a hand on my chest, over my heart.  “Fine.. I… I really love you.”

 

_ That’s when it all hits me.  The stars. It was never about Evan.  It was about _  him . _ Whenever I missed him I would look up at the stars.  He was the one I was supposed to talk about the stars with. He was the one I was supposed to give the bracelet to.  Not Evan, never Evan. I don’t love Evan. He’s a replacement, isn’t he? I’ve made up this whole damn story, lying to myself _ .  I can feel myself crying again.  I didn’t expect it, to have any more tears left to cry.

 

“Evan, I think you need to leave,” I say weakly.   _ What the fuck have I done? _

 

The worst part is that he doesn’t seem confused, he doesn’t ask any questions.  He simply gets up, puts on his sweatshirt, and walks right out. As if he knew. As if he knew that I really would hurt him.  As if he knew that everything was wrong. 

 

And then I remember something else.  The song I played him, that wasn’t random.  It was Miguel’s favourite. We used to listen to it all the time.

 

\-----

That morning I told him I missed him.  I texted him. “I miss you.” It had been so long.  I wanted him to be back. He never responded, and maybe that’s why I decided I had to leave.  I had just checked my phone for just a few seconds on the bus that morning. I didn’t really think about it, I guess.  It kind of drifted from my mind. But now it’s there, sticking out like a sore thumb.  _ I wonder if he knows that I’m in the hospital.  Does he miss me, too? Would he know that I died?  Would  _ he _ be at my funeral?   _ Angrily, I glare down at my burn marks, then throw my sweatshirt back on.   _ Great.  Now I ruined my chance at starting anew _ .  

 

I get my journal, flipping through the pages, finding the drawings of him.  I want to tear them out, but I don’t. I just go to a new page, drawing Evan instead.  I do that for about an hour, listening to The Velvet Underground, one of my own favourites,  _not_ one of  _his_.

 

I find Evan outside of my room picking at his fingernails.  His eyes are puffy.  _ Fuck _ .  

 

If he heard me open the door, or my footsteps, he doesn’t show it.  “I'm surprised you didn't leave. I’m happy you didn’t, though.”

 

He stands, scratching at his arm.  “I-I'm sorry I'm not who you want me to be, C-Con.” 

 

I swallow.  “No. You're  _ exactly  _ who I want you to be.”   _ Am I trying to convince him, or myself? _

 

He reads me easily, and pulls away.  “You obviously aren't happy with me. You, you probably spoke too soon, you wanted to move on too quickly, forcing it on me.  That's not fair to you.”

 

“Evan,” I whine pathetically.  “I…”  _ Oh, fuck _ .   _ He's right _ .

 

“Connor, s-se-seriously, it's fine.  It was all a mistake, okay?”

 

“You loving me is a mistake?” I ask bitterly, even though I know I'm being unfair.

 

He sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  “Of- of course not. I'm saying you loving  _ me  _ is a mistake.”

 

“Hey-”

 

Evan smiles at me, as if to say that everything is alright, but it's really not.  He's not okay. But he wants me to be. And that might be the exact reason I can't have us falling in love with each other.  We both made a mistake. “It’s o- It's okay, Connor. Honestly. I'll see you later!” He pecks a kiss to my cheek before leaving, leaving me standing there outside room 124 all alone.

 

_ Honestly, my ass _ .

 

\----

 

The next day, when I leave my room, hungry for breakfast, I make my way to the cafeteria, where I find Jared and Evan. 

 

The two are laughing, sharing a bagel, and Evan is sitting  _ really  _ close to him, like he could be on his lap if he moved a hair to the left.

 

_ Ugh, I hate feeling jealous _ .  I wonder if now they are together.   _Well, we sorta broke up, didn't we? Was that even a breakup?_

 

I contemplate sitting with them, interrupting them, but I hold back, and grab a muffin, then sit at another table, watching them.

 

Jared puts an arm around Evan, in what could just be a friendly, bro-like gesture, but my stupid paranoid and jealous brain interprets it as flirtatious.   _ Fuck it _ .

 

I take a large bite of my muffin, swallowing it, then leave the rest of it on the table as I go over to their table.

 

“Hey, Ev,” I say, sitting between them.

 

“O-oh!  Connor, h-hey,” Evan scoots to the side, giving me more room, but he doesn't look at me.

 

I think Jared says something, but I don't pay attention to him.  

 

Without thinking, I put a hand on Evan's face, tilting his head so I can kiss him properly.  

 

He pulls away a bit too fast, blushing.  

 

_ Connor, what the fuck?  _

 

“Connor, what the fuck?” Jared exclaims, laughter in his surprised voice.

 

Wordlessly, I grab Evan’s healthy arm, tugging him in the direction of the nearest door.  He doesn’t say anything, either, and Jared just watches us, confused. Upon opening the door, I find it’s a janitor’s closet.   _ How cliché can this possibly get? _

 

“Hey,” I mumble, still holding his arm, sliding down to link my fingers with his.  “You okay?”

 

“Y-yeah.”  Evan looks nervous.  “What's- what's up?”

 

I look down at our hands, loving the warmth his hand passes to mine. “I was worried about the way we left things yesterday,” I admit.  

 

“Oh.  Are.. is this… are we over?  I mean, I know, it was super,  _ super  _ fast, and we’re just kids, who knows what's going on with us, maybe, maybe I was just lonely and… and..” Evan slows down, and I feel his hand go limp in mine, then slip out from my grasp, falling to his side.  

 

“Evan.”  I sigh. “I don't know what I'm doing, but I… I love you, and everything hurts right now-”  _ I can't stop thinking about my ex _ . “-but I don't want to let go of this.”   _ I sound so pathetic, seriously, like I'm in some ridiculous teenage rom-com.   _

 

He looks small in his sweatshirt, and I can tell he's about to cry.  “Le-let go of… I love you, but I'm hurting you, I, I don't want to be around you if it's only going to hurt you.”  

 

Instead of speaking, I pull him into a hug, but he doesn’t return it.

 

“You're not ready to move on,” he says.

 

I keep my hands on his lower back.  “I want to. I do, I want to move on so I can just.. so I can give all my love to you.”

 

He holds onto the bottom of my sweatshirt, his head pressed to my chest.  “I-I don't want to be- I don't want to be forcing you to move on or something.  I meant what I said, that you loving me is a mistake.” Evan lifts his head, and moves his hands to the sides of my face.  “Maybe because we… because. Because we both-” he stops, shaking his head.

 

A bit of anger flickers inside of me.  “Just because we both tried to kill ourselves doesn't mean that this is a mistake!”

 

“But what if it does?”  He asks quietly. “We both feel so alone, and we understand each other, and we just went for it.  I'm not a good person, I'm not a good person for  _ you _ , and I can- I can't even tell you the tr-truth!”

 

“What truth?”   _ Truth that he doesn't love me? _

 

He drops his arms, and pulls out of my hold, pacing around.  “The truth that I don't regret trying, and that once I get out of here.. once I get out of here I'm just gonna do it again!  I’m gonna try again. And.. and I don't care. I don't fucking care that now I've added another person to the list who might be sad- I-I don't care!  The truth is, is that I'm never gonna get better, I don't  _ want  _ to get better, and I just want to leave this fucking place already so I can just, just, just slit my wrists in the bath or some other stupid cliché suicide!  Because clearly,  _ clearly _ , falling from a massive oak tree didn't do  _ shit _ !” When he stops, he's crying, and the only thing I want to do is hug and kiss him, tell him everything will be alright.  But I'm human, I'm a mess, and I'm a coward, and I can't be perfect, and nothing will ever go as planned, so instead, I run, running like I ran from Miguel and telling him my own truths. I run away, leaving him to cry all alone. 

  
_ So much for ‘love’ _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this chapter. I say that every time, but it's true. I'm sorry. For a lot of things, actually, like existing and being me. But that's okay.


	26. Everything's fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared tries to cheer up Evan.

I don't move.  I don't try and follow Connor, I don't go back to Jared, I don't try and find my mom or ask someone to page her.  I just sit by myself.  _ I hate that our relationship, or whatever it is, is just me being a mess _ .   _ Actually, that’s my relationship with everyone _ . 

 

Maybe ten minutes later, I hear the door open.  I wonder if it's Connor, coming back to try and make me feel better, or if it's Mom, and she somehow knew I needed her, or if it's the janitor.  But it's not. It's Jared.

 

He crouches down in front of me, then falls back onto his butt, leaning against the wall beside me instead.  He holds out an apple, but I gently push his hand away, so he pockets it. I feel too nauseous to eat anymore.

 

“Where's Connor?” 

 

I shrug.  “He left.”  I wish I could say that I was hurt, but I'm not.  I understand why he left, it’s because only a superhuman would be able to stick by me.  Even if we are ‘meant to be’ or whatever, it makes sense why he wouldn't stay. I don't think I care. 

 

Jared puts an arm around me, patting my shoulder.  “I know I'm a shitty friend and I'm shit at comforting people, I can only offer fucked-up jokes and memes, but… you wanna talk?” 

 

I wish I could smile at his kind efforts, but I cry instead.  That's all I'm good for, crying. “I wanna go home,” I sob, clinging onto his shirt as I lean over.  “I wanna leave!”

 

“I know, I know…”

 

“I  _ hate  _ this place!  I hate the stupid sharing circles and the stupid medicine they make sure I take, and the stupid fact that I can't get out of this stupid place!”

 

Jared offers me his hand.  “Here, just, I dunno, just squeeze my hand, okay?”

 

I take it, and give a slight squeeze, holding it to my face as I try not to scream from frustration and how much I hate being here.  My grip gets harder and harder, my eyes and teeth clenched.

 

“ _ Fuck _ \- ow!” He screeches, pulling his hand away, shaking it.  “Jesus, how are you that fucking strong?” Jared wiggles his fingers.  “Shit, man.”

 

“S-sorry.”

 

He flicks my cheek, actually  _ flicks my cheek _ , causing me to look up with mild annoyance.

 

We make eye contact, then burst out laughing.   _ I can't believe I'm laughing _ .  I wipe my teary eyes, but they fill again, this time with tears of laughter.  “I didn't- I didn't realise I had that strong of a hold!” I gasp out.

 

Jared smacks my arm with his other hand.  “You dick!” He wheezes, then shows me his hand.  “It's all red, see? Jerk!”

 

His hand looks perfectly fine, but I apologise again anyway, fighting off more laughter.

 

“Thanks for finding me,” I say quietly, tapping the linoleum tiles with my fingernail.

 

“‘Course.”  Jared cocks his head to the side.  “So, you two bangin’?”

 

“What?!” I exclaim, horrified.

 

“Ya know,  _ fucking _ , you two doing the dirty, his dick and-”

 

I clamp a hand over his mouth.  “Jared! Oh my god, do you ever stop thinking about sex?”

 

He shrugs, peeling my hand from his mouth.  “Eh. I'm a teenage boy, Ev. It happens.” He prods me in the shoulder, smirking.  “Don't tell me you don't think about boning him in those tiny beds,” he teases.

 

I groan, pushing him.  “You're so gross, dude.”

 

“At least I cheered you up, huh?”  Jared chuckles, then rubbing his hands on his chest and moans comically.  “ _ Oh, Evan! _ ” 

 

“Shut up!” I'm laughing again, swatting at him.

 

“Seriously, though, are you two having sex, or no?  Gimme the goods, man!”

 

I stick out my tongue, then sigh.  “I have no idea. I mean, he said he likes me, I like him, we kissed- shit, Jared, I'm in  _ love  _ with him!  And he said he loves me, too, but then I think we broke up, and it was all in one day, too, and… I dunno.”

 

Jared shakes his head.  “Hold up, wait, okay. Tell me everything.”

 

“Um…” I tug at my sleeves.  “He gave me a note-”

 

“He gave you a  _ love letter _ ?!”

 

“Jared, let me finish.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“He gave me a ‘love letter’,” I continue.  “Except it was more of a ‘like letter’, and then I thought he was joking, but then he said he wasn't so I said I liked him back, he kissed me and I kissed him back, next thing I know, we're making out on his bed.”

 

“Clothes on?”

 

I glare at Jared.

 

“Valid question!” He says in defense.

 

“Yes, clothes on!  Anyway, his dad caught us, yelled at him, yelled at me, but then things got better and then he left, then Connor started to cry and then he said he loved me and I said I loved him back.”

 

Jared stares at me.  “Y'all went from fighting to lovers like  _ that _ !” He snaps his fingers.  

 

“Mhm.”  I bite my lip, picking at my cuticles.  “And then he cried more, saying he misses his ex.”

 

“Mood killer.”

 

“And I told him I was sorry that we moved too fast and that he was making a mistake falling for me, and, well, then I just left.”

 

Jared takes a moment to consider everything.  “Okay. So. Strangers to friends to ‘Connor is a bully’ to ‘oh shit I have a crush on the bully!’ To weird gay love letters-”

 

“Just one,” I interrupt.

 

“-then ‘Shit, the bully has a crush on me!’ To love confessions, a hot makeout sesh with intense sexual tension-”

 

“-no sexual tension,” I correct him again.

 

“-then a back-and-forth of ‘I’m a shitty person! no,  _ I’m  _ a shitty person!’, ‘I miss my ex,’ and finally, ‘It's not you, it's me,’” Jared concludes.

 

“You really have to say it that way?” I ask, quite annoyed.  

 

He nods.  “So… now what?”

 

“Hell if I know.”

 

Unprompted, Jared launches into a whole new list.  “Well, you could go after him and turn this into some hella gay scene that would be the foundation of a season seven of Glee- no hate on Glee, by the way, love that shit- you could fall for me, which, of course, wouldn't be a surprise, not with my dashing good looks, or you could enjoy the single life!”

 

“Are those the only options?” I ask miserably.

 

“Basically, yeah.”

 

I twist the hem of my shirt between my fingers.  “I don’t know what to do. Everything’s so messy.”

 

_ That’s why I climbed up, to escape the messiness and pain of life _ . _  No matter what, you can’t escape it _ .  

 

Jared checks his watch and sighs with frustration as he stands.  “I didn’t tell my parents I came to visit, I have to hurry to school, they’d kill me if they knew I skipped.”

 

I’m a bit disappointed that we can’t spend more time together, but of course I understand.

 

Pulling myself to my feet, I open the door, hoping nobody notices that the two of us were in the janitor’s closet, jumping to the likely assumption that we went to make out.  “I'll see you later, then,” I say, moving away from the door and trying to act casual.

 

“Yeah, of course.  See ya, dude!”

 

For the next couple of hours that he's gone, I spend time reading, talking to my mom, and getting a check-in visit with Dr. Sherman.  I don't mention the messy stuff with Connor, only that I have a friend, which seems to satisfy him.

 

I arrive at group, sitting beside Aiden.  I'm about to say hello when I hear the screech of a chair moving beside me, and I see Connor on my other side.   _ Of course all the other chairs are taken.  Of course they are. Why wouldn't they be? Life just has it out for me today _ .  Fighting to urge to leave, I turn my chair just slightly enough that I can face away from him, but not enough to be noticed and/or seen as rude.

 

Helen has us partner up for a brief exercise where we have to talk about any sort of skills we used in the past twenty-four hours.  Quickly, I jump into conversation with Aiden, doing whatever I can to avoid Connor in the meantime. 

 

“Are you okay?” Aiden asks, lowering his voice.  “You can't even look at Connor, and I thought you two are friends.”

 

_ Of course he noticed _ .  “F-friends, yeah, no, I mean, everything’s great!  I'm okay.”

 

Aiden doesn't look like he totally believes me, but he nods.  “Well, for skills,...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I'm sorry.


	27. Happy together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tries to talk to Evan and convince him that everything will be okay.

As soon as we finish, I try to get Aiden to come with me to my room, or for us to even go to the lounge area, despite the crowds and noise, but his parents are visiting, so I'm on my own.  Or, as ‘on my own’ as I can get.

 

Suddenly, Connor is beside me.  His fingers graze mine, and I pull away, but make it as if I didn't notice he tried to take my hand, and slip it inside my pocket.  _I can't handle this, please go_...  _Not now, Connor, not now_.    

 

“Is this just gonna be our relationship?” He asks.  “Me screwing up and you avoiding me?”

 

_ Me avoiding you?  You're the one who ran away!   _ “There's no relationship, Connor.  It's, it's too fast for you, and we can't handle ourselves, we can't handle ourselves,  _ or  _ each other!”  I take longer strides, walking quickly.

 

This time, his fingers tighten around mine, and he pulls me back towards him.  “We can make this work, I, Evan, I do love you, and me loving you means I can make this work!  I thought maybe I was just… you were supposed to make me feel like-”

 

_ I was supposed to?  It's my fault? Oh, well, of course it is, because I’m screwed up and weak and cowardly and I'm not good for you and _ \- “I was your replacement?  Replacing your ex?” I finish for him, pulling my hand away.  “But I'm not your ex-boyfriend, which makes you upset and confused and wondering if you even liked me in the first place.”  Connor halts, and I keep walking. “We shouldn’t do this, _I_ shouldn't do this. We’re both fragile, and maybe, maybe we shouldn’t even be together.  Right now, we feel so helpless and alone.” I turn around to him and stop, deciding to speak the truth that neither of us are daring to admit.  “The only thing we have in common is that we’re in this hospital.”

 

He looks furious, like he’s about to scream, so I start to regret opening my mouth at all.  “You can’t deny that we like each other, Evan. You and me? There’s something there, and I want to be with you, truly,”  Connor defends himself in a tight voice, and walks towards me, and against my common sense, I let him. “Fuck everything. I’m in love with you, and we can make this work.  Yes, I still hurt because of my ex, but… but I will move on so that I can love you properly!”

 

“There’s no point!” I exclaim.  “Both of us, we’re out of here in a month or so, once we’re out, who knows what will-”  _ I’m gonna kill myself once I’m out of here.  So there’s no point in a relationship _ .  

 

“Once we get out of here, we can be an annoying couple on coffee dates!  Because we’ll be happy together.” He rubs his forehead. “Let’s go to my room and talk, okay?  I feel weird talking in the middle of the hall.”

 

I don’t want to agree, but I do.  I want to be alone with him. I want to be alone with the guy I’m in love with and cuddle and have none of our troubles ever have existed.  “Let’s go.”

 

We sit on his bed, and I put distance between us.

 

“Listen to me, Ev, we can help each other out.” Connor moves closer, but there’s nowhere else for me to go.  “We can both be happy. We’re here because we weren’t happy, but together, we can be happy.”

 

“Happy?  Happy? You can’t be happy if I’m not the boy you want,” I whisper, pulling on a loose thread on my sleeve as I lean forward, ready to take a step to leave if I need to.

 

He takes off his boots, then pulls his feet up to the bed, crossing his legs.  “You are, though,” he insists. “I know it, you are. Miguel is.. It’s done between us, and.. and you’re here, and I want you.”

 

My jaw clenches.  “W-want you… I-I don’t want to be a replacement.”

 

“You aren’t,” he coos, leaning in to kiss me.

 

I get up.  “Go-god! Don’t you get it?  This won’t work. You miss him, and I’m the only one available.  I’m a fucked-up boy who shares one shitty thing with you and that makes you think that we can be together!  I’m s-s-so stupid, I should never have fallen in love with you, I knew it was a b-bad idea!” I swallow back tears.  “You heard me earlier, didn’t you? I’m only gonna be alive for another month, once I’m out, I’m trying again! And again, and again, no matter what it takes!”

 

Connor stands, grabbing the front of my sweatshirt.  “Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to just settle down and accept that, hey, this is life!  Life is shit, but we get through it together!  Evan, I want to help you, I want to make your life something worth living, and if you can just let me in-”

 

“Con, you’re not listening to me,” I say, trying not to scream.  “I’m not like you! I-I can’t be content with a life of constant anxiety and fear I’m gonna mess up or whatever, I want it all to be over!  I’ll only be content when I can’t feel anything anymore, when I’m numb, and when I can’t hurt anyone! I’ll only be content when I’m dead!”  There.  I said it.  Like when I blurted out the truth of why I climbed that tree.  "I'll only be content when I'm dead."

 

He stares at me, releasing my shirt slowly, and I finally see the pained look in his eyes.  “We can be happy,” he whispers. “You can be happy if we do this. I don’t want you to die, I want, I want more than anything in the world to be that couple that kisses on street corners waiting for the light to change, knowing each other’s favourite snacks, the couple that goes to each other’s homes and makes out on beds and laughs when their parents walk in on them, the couple that alternates whose family they eat dinner with and hold hands under the table!  I wanna be  _ that  _ kind of a couple.”  Connor shrugs, and scratches his arm.  “I’m in love with you, and I’m not going to let you go that easily, okay?  You’re gonna stay alive, and I’m gonna be there for you. The two of us will be a happy, cheesy couple.”

 

_ I want that, too, but it’s not as easy as you think _ .   _ No, this is what you wanted with him, not with me, you know it’s impossible with me, I'm too far gone _ .  

 

“Happy, happy, happy, cheesy couple,” I tic pathetically.  “I-I can’t compete with your ex,” I mutter. “I’ll never be good for you like he was, I'm too much for you, for  _anyone_ to handle."

 

“You aren’t competing if I already chose you,” he says, then kisses my cheek.  “Anyone who says you aren’t good for me, well, fuck ‘em.”

 

_You didn't choose me, you're stuck with me.  You saw a helpless boy and didn't realise how much shit you were signing up for._   


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, like every other chapter these days, is short, and I'm sorry. It's been really hard lately which is, like, whatever, no big deal, but it means I didn't really have time to write. Sorry...
> 
> -Jared


	28. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tries again to make things better. (Connor POV)

When the words exit my mouth, it hits me that they are basically the same as what  _ he _ used to say to  _ me _ .  The fact that I’m quoting my ex to console my new sorta-boyfriend that I’m over my ex leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

 

Evan doesn’t seem to agree with me anyway, and pushes me away gently.  “I, I'm sorry. I'm gonna go to my room now.”

 

“Hey, babe, c’mon…” I snag his sweatshirt sleeve, but he shakes me off.  “Don't  _ you _ get it?  I can help you, us together, we can work.”

 

“Connor, stop!”  He's crying more, and unhooks my fingers, one by one, from his arm.  “This isn't ea-easy, nothing is easy for me right, right now.” He looks at me with big, sad eyes.  “There's nothing I want more than to just be  _ happy _ .  All I want is for you to hold me, and, and rub my back and run your fingers through my hair, and k-kiss me soft-softly, and we can pretend like nothing is wrong.  But everything  _ is  _ wrong!   _ I'm  _ wrong.”

 

I can't let him leave, I just can't.  I pull him to me, wrapping my arms quickly around him in a tight hug.  “Shh, sh, hey, it's okay. I can help you, okay? I want to be a good boyfriend for you.”

 

Evan squeezes his way out of my hold, shaking his head.  “No, I can't. Not now. I'm not going to, I, I won't be able to stand it if I leave you if we get any closer!”

 

“You're not leaving me, okay?” I shout.  “You aren't, because I love you, and I'm not letting you end your life once you're out of here!”

 

“That's not your decision to make, Connor!”  He hugs himself, shaking slightly. “I-I'm gonna go now.  P-p-please don't follow me.”

 

“Ev…” I let him go without another word.

 

Waiting about ten minutes, I slip out of my room, but not before I spot a familiar head of blonde hair.

 

“Hey, hey, Heidi, wait up!” I call, running after the nurse.

 

She turns to me in surprise, then smiles.  “Hey, kiddo, what’s up? How are you?”

 

“Ah, everything’s alright with me, but could you just check on Evan for me?” 

 

Heidi’s face quickly morphs into a concerned one.  “Is he okay?” Her voice goes higher in panic, and she puts a hand to her chest.

 

“Heidi, actually..”  I take a deep breath.   _ He won’t let me be there for him, but he certainly will let his mother _ .  “Evan, he…”.  _ What can I even say?  _  “He said that he.. I don't think-”  _ Come on! _  “This hospital, it's not helping him.”

 

“Oh…” She inhales shakily. “I’m happy you found me, Connor. You’re a good friend to him.”

 

_ I hope so _ . 

 

“So, yeah, please,  _ please  _ talk to him.  He really needs you right now.”  Before she can say anything else, I turn to go back in the direction of my room, but only moving until she can't see me.

 

I watch as she knocks on Evan’s door, his face peeking out, then they both vanish behind the door.  Going back to my room, I get my book, then count to thirty in my head before creeping quietly by Evan's door.  Leaning against the wall, looking like I just happen to be over there, I crack open my book to a random page as I try to listen, catching bits and pieces.

 

I read my random page, an assortment of Billy Collins’ poetry looking back up at me through heavy black Times New Roman font, a stain of mysterious origin in the top left corner.  The pages themselves smell vaguely like jasmine tea, and I wonder if perhaps the stain is from a drop of tea, but I decide it’s too pale. I miss books, silently getting into them like this.  It’s really weird, too, how I think differently from Evan about this place. I truly don’t mind it. Or maybe it’s just because he’s here. I mean, at least I don’t have kids pointing out why I’m a fuck-up left and right.  It’s because we’re  _ all _ fuck-ups.  Hell, I know that’s not nice to say, but screw that.  My fingernail, which I now notice is completely free of paint, runs over a stanza.   _ ‘It seems only yesterday I used to believe there was nothing under my skin but light.  If you cut me, I would shine. But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life, I skin my knees.  I bleed _ . _ ’ _

 

I'm finished with the book in what I guess must have been an hour, and I mentally slap myself for not doing the  _ one  _ thing I meant to do- eavesdrop.

 

_ This was a dumb idea, eavesdropping _ .  I walk away, taking a few steps past the elevator just as it opens.  

 

_ Not him again _ .

 

Jared doesn't see me, and moves towards Evan's room.  He raises a fist to knock, but I quickly pull him away, a finger to my lips.  

 

“Hey!” Jared frowns, moving away from me.  “What's your problem, dickhead?”

 

“Shut up, dumbass!  Ev’s talking to his mom.”

 

His eyes grow wide.  “Oh,  _ fuck _ .  Please tell me you… did you- did you tell her that Evan still-”

 

_ What's his deal?  Evan told him? I thought that he would only- of course he'd tell Jared.  Asshole enough as he is, he's still a better friend than I am _ .

 

“Yeah, I'm scared he's going to do something stupid!”

 

Jared drags a hand down his face, shaking his head.  “Oh, this is bad, really, really bad…”

 

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” I hiss, yanking his collar.  

 

He sighs, scratching the back of his neck.  “Do you know why he first started therapy?”

 

“I dunno, probably told his mom he felt shitty and she got him help,” I shrug.  “What's your point?”

 

Jared groans and shakes his head again.  “What happened was that I caught Evan cutting himself.  It kept happening and finally I told the guidance counselor and she called in his mom.  They both thought hospitalization was a good idea, but Evan resisted. So, Heidi scrapped together cash for therapy, and Evan got help.  He was mad at me for telling the counselor without asking him for permission first, but he got over it. Then… the tree incident happened and Heidi figured it out and Evan admitted the truth, and now, here we are.”

 

_Ah.  Now I get it._  “Well, fine, okay, what do we do now?”

 

He presses a finger to my chest.  “ _ We  _ don't do anything.   _ I _ make sure he's okay, and  _ you _ apologise.”

 

“Why should I even apologise?” I exclaim.  “I get it, he's scared, but I want to help him!”

 

Jared turns away from me, then back.  “You don't get it, Connor. He doesn't feel like he deserves help, so he pushes people away, scared that they will get caught up in the mess he thinks he his, and will hurt people.  Better to push them out than get too close, I guess.”

 

_ This is- this is ridiculous!  _  “We’re both talking to him.  You're supposed to be his best friend, that's all he ever wanted from you, and you left him all alone.  We're doing this together. Right now, he needs both of us, not you, not me, us.”

 

He hesitates, then nods.  “Alright, fine. This is.. whatever, but let's do it.”

 

\---

Jared goes down to the little gift shop, and comes back, holding two bags full of  _ stuff _ .

 

“What is all this?” I ask, peering into the sparkly green bag he hands me.

 

He moves stuff around in his orange bag as we walk towards Evan’s room.  “I may not have been a great friend, but I still know him and what he likes.”

 

“This is all crap, though,” I complain, picking up a freaky bear plush. “Seriously?”

 

“It's the tie-dye beanie baby,” he replies immediately.  “He had one as a kid but then he lost it. Drove him nuts.  Now, shut up and be  _ nice _ .”

 

I roll my eyes, but keep quiet.   _ Jared knows so much about Evan, and I know barely anything _ .

 

Jared glances at me, then knocks softly.

 

“If, if that's Connor, please go away,” comes a muffled voice.

 

He scowls at me, as if to say  _ ‘Now look at what you've done!’  _ and puts his head to the door.  “It's Jared.”

 

“Oh.  Um, you can come in.”

 

Before I can ask Jared if he's sure about this, he opens the door.  Evan is wrapped in a blanket, looking pale and very afraid,  _ especially _ when he sees me.

 

“Hey, we brought you some goodies,” Jared says in a gentle voice.

 

Evan looks from me to Jared, then down at his lap.  “Th-that's very sweet of you, bu-but you don't need to do that, Jared. You've already been super nice to me, you shouldn't feel like you have to keep doing this.”   _ Jared, super nice?  Huh?  _

 

However, Jared nods his head slightly towards Evan, and I go ahead, shyly handing him the dumb bag.  “Here..”

 

He finally looks up again, and looks confused.  “C-C-Connor, what are, what are you doing here?” 

 

I shrug, giving him a lopsided grin.  “Trying to make you happy, even if it's just a little bit at a time.”

 

Evan backs away from me, like the bag is some offspring of Satan or some shit.  “J-Jared, why did y-you bring him here?”

 

_ No, wait, please _ …

 

“I don't want him in here!” Evan cries out, covering his ears with his hands.  “Go away, g-go away!”

 

My first instinct is to yell, to demand that he stop freaking out.  I also want to leave if that's what he wants, but I know it won't help in the future.  So, I do my final option. I put the bag on his lap, and sit on the bed, far away enough to make him comfortable.  “Evan, I love you.”

 

He shoves the bag aside, landing on the floor, causing everything to fall out, making a mess, and I'm surprised Jared doesn't get annoyed.  “I-I don't want you here.”

 

“What can I do to make things right?” I ask, ignoring the spilled gifts.  

 

“Nothing,” he whispers, looking away.

 

Jared comes to his side, putting the stuff back, and sits next to Evan.  “Dude, come on, stop freaking out, just let him stay,” he coaxes. 

 

Evan shakes his head, biting a nail. 

 

_ Please, please _ … “Why won't you let me love y-”

 

“You never said sorry!” Evan yells, interrupting me, causing both Jared and me to freeze.

 

I move slightly closer.  “What are you talking about?”

 

He tears up, tugging at the sheet.  “You didn't say sorry for running away, you didn't say sorry, you didn't say sorry for telling my mom… you didn't.. you didn't…” 

 

My eyes widen, and I feel my heart break all over again.  “Oh, Ev, I- I am sorry, I really am. I was scared, so I ran, I'm so sorry…”

 

“He just wanted to help,” Jared adds, reaching up to stroke Evan’s hair.

 

As soon as his hand touches Evan, he yelps, jerking his head away from Jared.  “Help, help, help? I told you, I don't-”

 

It's my turn, and I move even closer.  “You don't want help, I know. But that's what happens when people care about you, they want to help you!”  I rest my hand on his leg, but he moves it away.

 

“That-that's why I wanted to d-d-die!  So that there wo-would be less people wasting their time caring about me!”

 

I can't stop myself now, I'm nearly on top of him, holding him tightly in my arms.  “I'm not letting you go, okay? I love you, and I'm sorry if you don't want me to, but I can't help it, and the only thing I want is for you to be happy and  _ alive _ .”

 

“Get off of me!” He demands, kicking me from under the covers.  “Leave me alone, I don't- it was stupid for me to fall in love with you because I knew it would end up this way!”

 

I hold him tighter.  “I'm not giving up on us.  I know you want to end it all, I know, I know it's so hard, but please don't do this.  You're not alone, we're here for you no matter what.”

 

“S-stop, you're hurting me!” Evan protests, and manages to shove me off him.  “Go! I can't stand seeing you.” He turns to Jared. “Or you. I can't believe you brought him here.”

 

Even  _ Jared  _ looks pained.  “Man, I'm sorry.  I just wanted to make things right.”

 

Evan turns away from the both of us.  “All I want is to be alone and for nobody to make me feel guilty for wanting to kill myself.  I know it's impossible, I know, b-but, it's all I want. I used to think I was alone, and that's why I wanted to die, because I was insignificant.  But now people rely on me, expect me to be someone I'm not, and I can't take it! I can't be a cool friend, Jared, I can't be the happy boyfriend, Connor!”

 

“Evan, I don't care about a ‘cool’ friend.  Where is this all coming from, anyway?” Jared asks.  “Everything seemed great between us this morning.”

 

_ Oh, shit _ .  “What did your mom say to you?”  I interrupt quietly from where I stand at the foot of the bed.

 

He whimpers, picking at the end of his cast.  “Sh-she's  _ really  _ worried and might make m-me stay longer, or go somewhere else for m-m-more therapy.”

 

“But that's not a bad thing, it's good for you,” Jared interjects, folding his arms over his chest.  

 

Evan sighs, sniffling.  “I know, I do, but it's gonna be like the last time, no more locked doors, constant check-ins with Mom and Dr. Sherman, anything sharp is hidden away, my medication is monitored and Mom makes sure I take it each day.  A-and, and that means I won't be able to-” He cuts himself off. “I feel bad that you all have to put up with this shit. And you don't even have to say anything because no matter how many times you say I'm wrong, I won't stop believing it, and you'll just be disappointed and exhausted.”

 

I can't help myself any longer.  Taking a risk, I slide into the bed with him, wrapping my arms around his hunched figure, resting my face on his shoulder.  “Hey, listen to me, everything will be okay. And I will tell you for the rest of time that you're beautiful and worthy whether or not you believe it because  _ I  _ believe it, and I love you so much.”

 

Evan freezes, and I know that I only have seconds before he yells or pushes me away, but… he doesn't.

 

He lets out another set of tears, tired and maybe even relieved.  Evan hugs me back fiercely, and I hold on tighter.

 

“I'm never going to let go of you, Ev, I'm not letting you go, never ever.  You mean way too much to me,” I explain under my breath. “Is it okay, I mean, will you let me kiss you?” 

 

Instead of speaking, Evan pulls from the hug, and kisses me softly.  I kiss him back, harder, I missed this too much. I never want to experience what it would be like without holding him again.  “I'm sorry you don't want to live anymore, and I'm sorry I'm an asshole, but I can't stand the thought of never getting to see your face or kiss you ever again,” I whisper, my eyes drinking him in, memorizing every detail of his face.  “Don't leave me, don't, I love you too much, I don't know what I’d do without you.” I kiss his cheek, and shift around so I'm practically in his lap. “You being in my life isn't a bad thing at all, you being here made me so much happier, you're part of the reason why I'm trying to get better!  Mentally, but also… be a better person.” I run my fingers through his hair, cupping his cheek. “I love you, Evan, I do, every part of me, every part of me is in love with you.” 

 

Evan wipes his eyes, then kisses me again, his hands on the sides of my face.  “I'm s-so s-sorry I'm like this-” he starts, but I shake my head.

 

“No, it's okay, you're okay, there's nothing to be sorry for,” I assure him, pressing my forehead to his, hugging him to me.

 

“I don't mean to interrupt this mushy-gushy moment,” Jared says suddenly, surprising and annoying the shit out of me.  “But you're kind of hogging Evan and  _ I'm  _ his friend, so I think I get to give him a hug.”

 

Groaning, I force myself to pull away as Evan giggles through sniffles.  “Fine, but kiss him and I'm calling security,” I threaten, shooting Evan a wink.

 

Jared snorts.  “Deal. I wouldn't want to kiss him after you ruined him with your germs anyway,” he retorts, sticking his tongue out at me.  He nudges me away, giving Evan a sudden tight hug. “I'm sorry you've felt like I don't care about you, I do, I'm just an asshole, I'm a shitty friend, I know, but I really care about you,” he says quietly, but I catch his words.

 

“Th-thank you, Jared,” Evan whispers, then leans back in bed.  “I'm, I'm sorry, I'm really tired, guys, I'm sorry… I'm just.. so drained.”

 

I nod, and go back to him, rubbing his back.  “It's okay, get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

 

“Mm.. b-bye, Con…”

 

I tuck the thin blanket around him, kissing his forehead before I leave with Jared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this long chapter makes up for the time since I last updated, especially since that was a really short chapter. These past weeks haven't really allowed for much time to relax and write, and I know, I need to stop having all these excuses. I'll try to get back to updating more frequently. Thanks for being patient with me.
> 
> -Jared


	29. I'm not the freak, you're the freak.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tells Jared how he feels.

As soon as Jared and I are alone in the hall, he crosses his arms, looking away from me.  “Connor, uh, listen, man, I’m sorry.”

 

“Huh?” I look at him with surprise, never expecting those words to come from his mouth.

 

He lifts his shoulders, still turned away.  “That day, I, I said some really fucked-up things, and I wanted to say sorry.  Um, I guess I just keep feeling like it’s my fault. That you tried-” he stops himself, and turns to me.  “I’m an asshole, I know, I ruined my friendship with Evan in the past, and.. well, to be  _ cool _ , I guess, I… I was even more of an ass, and made you my victim.”

 

_ He can’t possibly be serious right now _ .  “Jared,” I say slowly, taking a step closer to him.  “You made my life even more hellish than it already was.  You turned me into this fucked-up monster,  _ exposed  _ me for everyone.  Everyone could see how messed up I was, how I  _ am _ .  I’m not- you might be Evan’s friend, and I know I’ve been playing nice, but I’m  _ never _ going to even  _ pretend _ that I like you, or want to be friends.  You’re such an ass, Kleinman,” I spit out.  “At least you know it.”

 

He huffs loudly, pushing up his glasses.  “I’m trying to make things right, here, okay?  I know I messed up, I do, and I hate myself for it, please, just give me another chance!”

 

“This is all bullshit.”  I walk away, wanting to have some time that  _ isn’t _ ruined by him.

 

“Connor, come on, I feel really shitty about everything-”

 

“Yeah?  Well, you  _ should _ .”  I whirl back around to him, leaning in close, so close that I can smell his disgusting Old Spice deodorant.  “You know, I can't help but think: if you never really met Evan, if he was just another kid at school, you would've called  _ him _ a freak and taunted him.”

 

His mouth opens to speak, but I won't let him.  “No, I mean, think about it,” I continue. “To you, I'm just that emo fuckup who is  _ depressed _ and  _ hurts himself _ , and feels so  _ alone _ .  I mean, shit, get rid of ‘emo fuckup’ and, boom, that's Evan.  That's basically everyone on this floor of this stupid hospital, are  _ they  _ all freaks, too?”

 

Eyes flashing with anger, Jared takes a step closer to me, our noses almost touching.  “You know I would  _ never  _ call him that, he's my best friend, and besides, you're always so fucking angry and abusive!  At least Evan doesn't beat up people for fun, huh?” His breath and words reek.

 

I move back, suddenly feeling a bit guilty because I know, I know he's right.  Evan wouldn't want to shove people or throw printers whenever he got angry, he would stuff it deeper inside him so he wouldn't ‘bother anyone’.  But still. “You have the nerve to say that steaming load of crap when  _ you’re  _ the one who made him feel like he was unloved for so many years when you abandoned him!  God, you really are a dick, Kleinman, so please, get the fuck out of here, and never, and I  _ mean  _ never, speak to Evan again.  Wouldn't want you to catch the  _ freak  _ disease, now would you?”

 

“I'm not just gonna stop being his friend because Connor  _ Fuck _ -phy told me to,” he sneers.  “You’re  _ toxic _ , Connor.  You hurt Evan, and I can’t believe I helped you make things right because you’re just gonna ruin him again, like you always ruin people.  No wonder you have no friends.” Jared pinches the bridge of his nose, causing his glasses to slide up a bit. “I’m out of here. I wanted to make things right, but I guess that won’t happen.”

 

“Don’t walk away from me!” I command, feeling my body get that angry heat, spreading through my veins like some sort of poison.  “Say it to my face, say it, that you’re a liar, that you think he’s messed up just like me, that Evan is a freak, that you’re  _ ashamed _ to be his friend, you pushed him out of your life, made him feel like a loser because he was too lame and if you didn’t have a freak for a friend, you might have a  _ sliver _ of a chance to be like the popular kids!  You’re using him to make yourself feel better, like you can have a friend that is ‘worse off’ than you, someone to protect and distract yourself from the truth that you’re so fucking insecure!”  The words I’m saying, Jesus, I know they are horrible, I know these are the kinds of things someone like Jared would say, the reason why someone like me would try to kill themselves. But I don’t want to say sorry or stop.  I don’t feel  _ that _ bad.  

 

“I said I was sorry, Connor,” Jared says, his voice a strange calm.  “I can’t do anything more than that. I apologised, and you can choose to still be angry, or just accept that we both messed up and hurt someone we care about and move on.”

 

I snort.  “That’s pretty adult of you, Kleinman.”  I lean against a wall, crossing my arms. “But you know I’m right.  You know that deep inside, Evan is a freak to you, just like me.”

 

“I knew Evan had problems, but I  _ never _ thought he was a freak-”

 

“-because he’s supposed to be your friend, I know.”  I push myself off of the wall. “But wait, no you're not, that’s a lie, too, you only talk to him for fucking car insurance or some shit, right?”

 

Sweat appears on Jared’s forehead, and I can tell I’m getting to him.   _ Good _ .   **_You’re being an asshole, Connor, this isn’t what Evan would want-_ ** _ shut the fuck up _ .

 

My body is burning, so, so hot, but it’s not like the other times when I’d feel this way because I was being attacked, I’m filled with this fiery rage because someone I care about is.   _ Look at me, playing the fucking hero _ .  “You never cared about him.  You let him believe he had someone to lean on, then you took that away, then rushed back when it was convenient so you could play the hero.  Why don’t you just save yourself the time and hurt him now instead of continuing this sick game?”  _ I can’t stop, this was a mistake, I’m just making things worse, why, why am I doing this?  It never ends up well _ .

 

He turns a furious red.  “You don’t know anything, okay?  The things I do, I do for him. I’m there for when he needs a shoulder to cry on, I’m there because he means everything to me, way more than goddamn popularity and a large group of ‘cool kids’ ever could.  I was there to help him, to save his life-”

 

“If you were there to save his life, then where the fuck were you when he tried to kill himself?”

 

Jared begins to laugh nervously and he puts his hands up in defense.  “Connor, now hold on-” 

 

I shove his hands apart, pushing them down to his sides.  “Why weren’t you there to stop him, to help him?! You claim you thought he was better, but clearly,  _ clearly _ , he was not!  Where were you when he felt so lonely?  Because obviously, that meant that he didn’t think you gave a shit, and that’s your fault for not being a good friend because you think he’s pathetic!  He’s not the pathetic one, you’re the pathetic one! I’m not the freak, you’re the freak! Everything you say about all of us who are so ‘below you’ and messed up, that’s all  _ you _ , you’re the one who deserves to be treated like shit.”   _ I need to stop right now before something really bad happens, before I do something I regret, before someone comes, before Evan somehow wakes up and sees this _ .

 

“Wait-”

 

“The reason he’s here, the reason I’m here, the reason both Evan and I nearly died, it’s all because of  _ you _ .”   _ Too far, way, way too far, Connor _ .  

 

Jared takes a step back, looking like he’s about to break down, his eyes wide and doe-like, his body shaking, growing paler by the second.  “No, no, you’re wrong, he, no…”

 

_ I’m not even surprised that such foul things are coming out of my mouth, but a part of me wishes they weren’t, even though the other part of me wants him to feel the sort of pain he made me feel for so long, how Evan must’ve felt, too _ .   _ Hell, this really isn’t me trying to defend Evan, is it?  It’s me using him as a shield to hide how much Jared made me feel so small _ .  My body relaxes slightly, and I can feel the burn fading slowly.  “You’re disgusting, you know that?”

 

He wipes his nose with the back of his hand.  “I’ll stop talking to him if that’s what you really want, but isn’t that me just repeating what I did years ago?  Abandoning him all over again?” His nose makes a gross snot noise when he breathes in before he continues. “I knew he’d be at the park that day, you know.  He was there for weeks because that was his  _ job _ .  Of course, I didn’t know he was feeling that way because he didn’t talk to me, and that’s my fault, I know, but he never talks to  _ anyone _ .  Bottles it all up, and you know that, too.  Nobody would’ve known. I don’t even think  _ he  _ knew he was going to do it until he started climbing.  Besides, I was there when he started hurting himself, it’s not like I was completely ignorant.  I tried to help him, I tried to prevent this from happening. It’s not my fault, it’s nobody’s fault.”

 

_ He’s right, fuck, I’m such an ass _ .

 

I sigh, feeling really embarrassed now, knowing that this will never end, this whole damn cycle, it won’t stop unless I say something.  Throwing aside my pride, I decide that, for Evan, I’m gonna make this right. “I’m… sorry, Jared, I, I shouldn’t have gone that far. You’re right, I just, I’m making excuses for the fact that I’m ashamed to know that I’m not good enough for him.  God, I can’t believe I’m even saying something like that, this is… no, okay, no, I don’t want to be a dick. Let’s just..” I look up at a half-dead LED light above us. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. Fuck.”

 

“Wait, you, you’re actually apologising?” Jared clarifies, eyebrows jumping off of his head.  

 

“Don’t get used to it,” I mumble, starting to walk away.

 

“Connor, hey, don’t go, hold on,” Jared hurries after me.  “I honestly have no idea how I would see him, if, if I didn’t know him, but because I  _ do  _ know him, I know that he’s the opposite of a freak, and… well, you aren’t one, either.  But.. please, stop thinking that I don’t care, that I’m this monster you made me out to be because.. I’m not.  I care about him, fuck, I care about  _ you _ , just- just can we not hate each other for once?”

 

I stop, letting his words sink in.  “You know, uh, those little bags of junk, that was pretty cool of you.”

 

He awkwardly pats my back.  “You don’t have to like me, but if you could just tolerate me, for his sake, that would be pretty awesome.  I really am sorry that I made you feel like shit, Murphy.”

 

Turning back, I hold out my hand.   _ I can’t believe I’m doing this, but.. Fuck.  Evan needs both of us, so _ … “Sure.”

 

Jared shakes my hand with an annoying amount of strength.  “I’ll see you around, dipshit.”

 

“Later, asshat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a little while, hasn't it? Thanks for 2k hits, everyone, it really makes me glad to see so many people are clicking on this story. I'm sure you've already guessed it, but I'm going to be a little bit slower here when it comes to updates for... obvious reasons. Erm, yeah, past weeks... kinda shitty. Needless to say, I will try my best. You guys all mean a lot to me, it always helps me move forward whenever I see another hit, some kudos, or a comment, so..... thanks. I hope you all have a nice day.
> 
> -Jared
> 
> Note: This chapter is kind of lame, I wanted Connor to be able to let out his feelings, but also have the two be mature enough to make up, so I know it may not seem 100% realistic... whatever.


	30. A quitter and a liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple days later, getting back to being a couple. Evan tries to be a cute and fun boyfriend for Connor, despite the voices in his head.
> 
> Evan's point of view.

I sit down at a table as people filter in for lunch, watching them as they go, trying to see how many people I recognise, but I find myself not knowing anyone that I see.

 

“Hey!” Connor sets down a tray, loaded with food.

 

“Oh!” I scoot over, giving him room.  “Um, you seem hungry,” I note, counting four individually wrapped sandwiches, two cups of fruit salad, and one large helping of fries with a handful of ketchup packets.

 

He hands me a sandwich.  “Actually, I figured you weren’t going to eat unless I told you to, so, take it.”  After a moment of me staying still, he nudges it closer. “SunButter and jelly,” Connor adds with a grin.  “The last time I saw you eating lunch, you had one of these allergy-free bad boys in your hand.”

 

Pleasantly surprised that he noticed, I gingerly take the plastic-wrapped sandwich.  “Thanks. I’m still pretty shocked they have them.”

 

“Perks of hospital cafeterias, they got something for everyone!” he remarks.  “I saw a girl getting a sandwich on some weird gluten-free fake bread thing, it reminded me of my mom.”  He makes a face, then nudges me with his shoulder. “Eat, eat, or else you’re gonna feel like shit on an empty stomach.”

 

I slowly pull apart the plastic, revealing two whole-wheat slices smushing together thin layers of reddish jelly and SunButter, some of it coming out of the sides.  Nibbling at the corner, I suppress laughter as I watch him wolf down a handful of fries, swiped through thick ketchup. 

 

“Wha-?” he wrinkles his eyebrows, catching me staring.

 

I roll my eyes, and wipe away some ketchup from his chin with a tiny napkin.  “Slow down, you’re gonna choke,” I chastise, crumpling up the used napkin, tossing it into the trash a few feet away from me.

 

“I can’t help it, eating food that  _ isn’t _ made from fucking cauliflower and tapioca starch or tofu is heavenly!”  Connor eats another couple of fries, his mouth full as he speaks. 

 

“Even the bland and undercooked fries?”

 

“ _ Especially  _ the bland and undercooked fries.”

 

I lean against his side, closing my eyes.  “Mm, you're warm. Can we, I just wanna be with you all day,” I say under my breath.  

 

“I wish,” he agrees, then gestures towards the barely-touched sandwich.  “Seriously, eat,” he urges me.

 

I look down at it, swallowing down the sickness at the sight of food, and take another bite, chewing it to a sticky glob in my mouth, swallowing the sugary sweetness.  

 

“Ugh!” Connor spits out something into a napkin, sticking out his tongue in disgust.  “Fuck.” He holds out the fruit cup to me. “Who in their right mind thought fucking  _ honeydew _ was a good idea to put in a fruit salad?  It's the worst fruit on the  _ planet _ .”

 

Chuckling, I sit up.  “I, uh, I actually like honeydew?”  I reach forward and take the other cup, peeling open the lid.  “Mm, lets see…” I grab a spork and spear a shiny purple grape, then offer it to him.  “This better?” 

 

He moves in, letting me feed him.  _Cute_.  “Grapes are way better for sure,” he decides.  “You seriously like that slimy green shit?”

 

Shrugging, my fingers dive in, picking up a piece and popping it in my mouth.  “It's not bad, really, just an acquired taste, I guess.”

 

“You're weird.”  Connor plucks out another piece.  “Here, eat the shitty stuff.”

 

Pouting, I take a light green cube of melon from his fingers.  “‘Shitty’ is too harsh,” I say defensively. “How can you even like  _ kiwi _ ?” I exclaim, watching incredulously as he bites into a slice.  “It's acidic and nasty!”

 

“ _ You're  _ acidic and nasty,” he says petulantly, then pecks my nose.

 

“That doesn't even make sense!” I laugh.  “Is this stupid, that we’re just feeding each other in the middle of a cafeteria?”   _It is.  You're being so stupid, Evan.  People are gonna see, they probably already are watching you and thinking you're-_

 

“Nah.”  Connor swivels around in the seat so he's facing me, legs on either side of the bench.  “Ev.”

 

“Hm?” I turn, and he quickly manages to have his lips on mine, kissing me firmly as he holds my face in his hands.

 

I pull away with a start, nervously looking around to see if anyone noticed us, but I stop when I see his hurt face.  “I, I'm sorry,” I whisper. “I get worried that someone will make fun…”   _Nice.  You ruined it.  Great._

 

He visibly deflates and swings his long legs back in place.  “Oh. Yeah, sure, I mean, it's no big deal.”

 

_ Crap _ .

 

“Um, Con.”  I tap his shoulder.  “We, um, we can always kiss in my room?  Or, or yours?” I offer, hoping it will make him feel better.   _ Wow, look at me, being flirty!  _

 

Connor perks up, his face glowing.  “Please!”

 

Giggling, I take another bite of the sandwich, then feed him a strawberry.  “Alright, let’s go!”   _Gotta keep this up, this cheery boyfriend act, the cheery boyfriend who doesn't care what people think_.

 

Like giddy children, we weave our way past people, hurrying to my room where he immediately peppers me with kisses, all over my face.  

 

Shutting the door firmly, I bounce back onto the bed, pulling him with me as I kiss him deeply.   _ Please, please don't make me talk about anything, I can't handle another day of emotion and my stupid mental health weighing me down and making him worry, I just want him to have fun and think everything is okay with me, at least for one day _ .  

 

He pins me down to the bed, his nose dragging along my jaw as I hold him tightly to me, closing my eyes so I can vanish in his arms.  “I-I love you so much,” I whisper, my fingers tangling in his hair.

 

“Wait.”  He backs off of me, sitting back on his heels.  “I'm sorry, we shouldn't, we need to talk, we can't just pretend that everything is okay now.”

 

_ Well, shit _ .  Slowly, I sit up, reaching around for his hand.  “I.. I don't want to talk,” I mumble, rubbing my fingers across his hand, feeling every little bump of his knuckles and the smoothness of his skin, slightly rough patches where he burned himself, close to his wrists, still showing beyond his sleeves.  Every beautiful detail of his hand. “Please.”

 

He pulls me close, kissing the top of my head as I drop his hand.  “You shouldn't bottle it up, and besides, it's  _ me _ , aren't we supposed to be able to talk about stuff, you know, being a couple and all that?”

 

_ Right, like that was going through your head the other day… _

 

“Connor, I just want one day of us being- one day of us being what  _ you  _ want us to always be like, happy and smiley, no worrying about me, just.. relaxed.”   _ That's right, because negative thoughts mean talking about it and that means longer hospital stays and it feels worse and worse.  Keep it in, keep it in, keep it in _ .  

 

“Ev-” he starts, but I kiss him quick to shut him up.

 

Connor tilts his head away when I try to kiss him again.  “No, I, no. We need to talk. Seeing you putting on a mask is too painful, the only smiles I want from you have to be genuine, okay?”  

 

I gulp, nodding.  “F-fine.”

 

I don't want to tell him anything.  I don't want him to worry, I don't want there to be a big deal, I want to leave this place, I want to leave.. I want to leave the world.  But one look at him lets me know that I can't do that anymore. It's pathetic, really, how the reason I  _ might  _ not just climb that tree all over again when I get out is because of  _ him _ .  A  _ boy  _ changing my mind, not all this bullshit condescending therapy.  That's not the way the world works, only stupid fairy tales. The prince solves all the problems, makes the princess rich and lovely and they lived happily ever after.  Maybe I do want that, too. Maybe. But it's too hard. They call me a quitter, I give up too easily, but if I quit at life, doesn't that mean I succeed in dying? Am I not a quitter after all?  No, no, that's bullshit thinking. Stupid, stupid, stupid Evan. Stop this. Stop this dumb ploy to get people to care-  _ but I don't want _ \- you want attention so people can take care of you and protect you because you're delicate and fragile and want someone to find you each and every time you fall-  _ but that burdens others, I don't want that _ \- you say that, but do you actually?  No, you want the attention. Admit it, that's all you've ever wanted, for people to notice you!  _ Why would I wear sleeves _ \- you know that would just raise questions in the hot weather, you want people to ask, you want people to target you, you want people to target you so you can have some knight in shining armor come, but he won't, he won't ever come for you because you won't fucking let him because you claim you don't deserve it when you want it so desperately because you'd do anything to be noticed like jumping out of a tree.  It was never to kill yourself or shut out the voices, it was so you could, for once in your goddamned pitiful life, be seen- “SHUT UP!” I scream, my head between my knees as I rock myself.  _ How did I even get into this position, why am I like this?  Why do I break every two seconds? This is childish.  _

 

“Evan!” His voice snaps me out of my thoughts, Connor’s warm hands on my shoulders.  “Hey, hey, come on, it's okay, what's wrong?”

 

I can't even speak, I just shake, my whole body trembling.   _Look at you.  Pathetic._

 

“Come here.”  Connor pulls me closer, holding my waste-of-space body, stroking my hair as I escape in his familiar scent and body heat.  “You're okay, you're okay, I'm here.”

 

“You're here, you're here, you're here,” I repeat to myself to settle down.  “I-I’m so sorry I keep, I keep breaking down like this. You shouldn't h-have to de-deal with m-m-me,” I hiccup, clinging to him nonetheless.  As much as I feel bad for making him stay to deal with this, I'm just… I’m so tired and lonely. I’m taking advantage of him, and his feelings for me, I know, but I can't make myself move away.  I know he'll come back no matter what which is his problem. If I push him away, he comes back, and I push him away again, the cycle continuing.

 

“I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to,” he says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  “Now, don't speak, just close your eyes and breathe, relax, everything is okay, I'm here.” He stops, wiping tears away from my cheeks, kissing the spots where the tears were.  “No matter how many times you feel shitty, I'll be there to try and make you feel… less shitty.” 

 

_ He ran away, but I would've ran, too _ . _  I'm running now, running away from my life _ .   _  Running from my job to be a good son, a good boyfriend, a good friend, a good  _ person.   _ I can't keep pushing him away, but I feel so guilty to let him in, it just doesn't sit right with me _ .   _ I have to do what he wants, I gotta quit being so lame, quit keeping him at a distance, quit being a fucking mess _ .

 

“Con…”

 

“Mm?”

 

I hug him as tight as I can, trying to put as much love as possible into it.  “Let's do it. Let's be a happy, stupid couple.”

 

_ even if it’s not what I want.  _

 

He gives me a massive grin, then kisses my forehead.  “You mean you're gonna be okay with me basically spoiling you with useless crap to be, uh, ‘romantic’, or whatever?” Connor teases, but has a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

 

_ That way,  _

 

“Of course.”

 

_ at least he'll be happy.  _

 

He kisses me again, this time on the bridge of my nose.  

 

_ Because it's better if one person is happy _

 

I reach up, playing with a strand of his hair, then tuck it behind his ear. __ “I- I can't wait to get out of here and, and cuddle, and go hold hands in the sunshine,” I manage softly, hoping I sound as positive as possible.

 

_ than neither, _

 

“Are you.. are you sure you're going to be okay, I mean, are you sure you want this… er, you want me?  Connor Fuckphy as your boyfriend? Even when we leave this place?”

 

_ despite it meaning that one of them _

 

**_When_ ** _. _ That word tastes funny on my tongue when I silently repeat it to myself, my frowning mouth hidden from his beautiful joyful eyes.

 

_ is a big, cowardly _

 

“Of course I am,” I assure him with genuine adoration in my voice, paired with a false smile.  “Of course I'm sure I want to be with you.” Of course I want to live a happy, long life of suppressed misery that slowly poisons the ones I love the most,  _ especially  _ him.  Who wouldn't?

 

_ liar. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a long chapter, longer than usual, to make up for my lack of updates. This story really is going to shit, isn't it? I'm sorry. God, I'm so tired. I'm tired..
> 
> Happy holidays.
> 
> -Jared


	31. He's My Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Connor's POV)
> 
> A couple of days go by, Connor and Evan become a closer couple. So close, in fact, that Connor can't help but feel annoyed when people so much as look at Evan.

Evan is curled up, sleeping next to me when I wake up from a nap in my bed.  Checking the clock across the room, I see we have just an hour before our group.  I snuggle closer to him, smoothing stray hairs away from his face, then press my lips to his forehead.  He twitches, then makes a sleepy grunt, pulling me close to him like I’m a teddy bear.  _ Too sweet _ .  “Hey, Evie,” I coo, reaching to cup his face, slightly sticky from sweat in my hot room.  “Come on, wake up, you're gonna be annoyed you slept so long, you won't be able to fall asleep tonight!”

 

Evan moans, batting at my face now.  “Shhh… sleep. I need.. sleep, s-sleep an’ cuddles..”

 

I get up out of bed, pushing the blanket back, making him whimper, but he still doesn't get up.  “Alright,” I say loudly. “I guess if you don't get up, you won't be able to get any more kisses!”

 

That does the trick.

 

He bolts right up in bed, wide-eyed.  “You can't do that to me!”

 

He's so right, I could never.  God, I’d never admit it, but he's kind of like crack for me, I mean, he's so addictive and he makes me melt into this lame puddle of flustered goop.  Sitting back down on the bed, I move so that I'm facing him, cross-legged. “Can't I?” I lean in to kiss him, then stop myself when I'm an inch away. “Hm.”

 

Evan glares at me.

 

“Heheh, of course I could never,” I say at last, kissing him.  

 

“Asshole,” he whispers into the kiss before deepening it.

 

I let myself drift away, losing myself in him, the surroundings dissolving.  My universe is the boy I'm kissing right this second.  _ Jesus fucking Christ, I've been listening to too much of Zoe’s music _ .  My hands find their way up the front of his shirt as if they were a separate part of me, acting all on their own, wanting to feel him even more, skin to skin.  

 

Evan weaves his fingers of his good hand into my hair, tugging lightly, holding the back of my head.  His other hand rests on my thigh, pressing down.

 

_ This is the right kind of fiery burning, I love it _ . 

 

Needing to breathe, I slowly pull away, hands slipping back down from under his shirt and back to my sides as I open my eyes.

 

“W-wow!” He blurts out, pink-faced.  “That was, that was…”

 

“Too much?” I ask, suddenly nervous.

 

However, he shakes his head to say no, and moves his hands so they are both on my waist.  “No, of-of course n-not,” he says hurriedly. “It was, um, it was really.. nice. A lot, but nice!  I liked it!”

 

_ Whew _ .  Tilting my head, I trace a finger from his cheek down to his chin, lifting it slightly.  “Holy fuck, I really am so in love with you.” My lips hardly graze his, then I dip down to kiss his chin, then again just below it, making him gasp lightly with surprise.  “I’d rather spend my time giving you tiny little stupid kisses than doing anything else.”  _ These words are coming out like cotton candy vomit, sickly sweet.  It’s completely true but something I'm not used to _ .   _ Not even with- no _ .   _ Shut up _ .

 

Evan’s face is a rosy pink as he smiles adorably.  “Y-you're so mush-mushy, it's, it's re-really cute!  I also just want to spend my time he-here with y-y-you.”

 

He lies back down, and I lean back, and he puts his head on my lap. I ruffle his soft hair, the short waves going in fifty different directions.  “Promise me,” I say, my hand moving to rub his back. “Promise that when we leave, you're not going to try anything dumb, okay?”

 

I feel him tense, and he sighs.  “Anything dumb, dumb, dumb... I p-prom-promise.”

 

“Good.”  I kiss his head.  

 

I don't dare to even think about the possibility that he could be lying to me.  It hurts too much.  'Ignorance is bliss,' or whatever, right?

 

Evan looks up at me, grinning.  "I would never leave my star all alone," he whispers, his fingertips brushing my cheek as he reaches his hand up to my face.  The thought that his smile is for show makes my stomach twist, and I shove it aside, choosing to only focus on his words.

 

"Now who's the mushy one?" I tease.  "And don't you dare, because you mean everything to me."

\-----

We sit next to each other in Hell Group, and I bring my chair closer, taking his hand, but he looks uncomfortable, so I drop it, maybe just  _ slightly  _ annoyed.  Only slightly.  I'm not a dick. His comfort comes first, obviously.   _ Obviously _ . 

 

There's nearly ten of us now.  One of the new people here is a boy who seems vaguely familiar, and I realise he's the boyfriend of one of the guys in jazz band (although I have no fucking clue what his name is).  This guy’s name is Theo, and he is a bit shy, but you would never guess it, looking at him. He has insanely bright pink hair and has a t-shirt with some dumbass song lyric on it: “Nobody likes you when you're 23” scrawled in neon green on a stretched and faded black.   _ Great.  A wannabe punk _ .  He tells the group about how he lives with his brother Asher and his boyfriend, Kyle.   _ Right, Kyle! _  When he speaks, I watch him glance over at Evan and myself, and I can tell he recognises us, which, for some reason, makes me slightly uncomfortable and annoyed.   _What if he tells people we were here?_

 

When we have our break time, I urge Evan to eat, which luckily he does.  He makes us sit with Aiden, and I try not to be too jealous while he waves across the room as we make our way towards him.   _ Evan's my boyfriend, he's not gonna leave me for Aiden _ .   _ He wouldn't, he loves me _ .

 

“Hey, Evan!”  Aiden flashes a signature blinding white smile at him, and gives me a nod.   _ He's so fucking nice it makes my teeth hurt _ .   _Ha.  Unlike me._

 

“Aiden, um, I don't know if I properly introduced you to Connor, um, Connor, Aiden.  Aiden, Connor,” Evan says, gesturing towards me.

 

Unable to help myself, I put an arm around Evan’s waist.  “I'm his  _ boyfriend _ .”

 

“Nice to officially meet you, Connor!” Aiden grins, then takes a sip of Coke.  “You two make a cute couple.”

 

Evan carefully pries himself free from my hold and nods before sitting down beside him.  “Y-yeah. Um, thanks.” His eyes slide over to me as if to say ‘What the hell was that?’

 

Aiden gives Evan a fond pat on the head as Theo approaches us.

 

“Hey, guys, uh, you're Connor and Evan, right?  Yeah, I've seen you around,” he says, joining us uninvited.

 

“H-hi, Theo,” Evan waves, scooting his chair to the side to make room.

 

Theo grabs a chair and plops down into it, sitting between Evan and me.  “Hey, could I sign your cast?”

 

Evan’s jaw drops.  “N-nobody has e-ever asked to sign, usually I have to b-beg them to!”  Happily, he gets up and grabs a marker, giving it to Theo.

 

“I feel like you're someone to be friends with, and I want a friend in this place, so I figured why not start with you?”

 

_ Don't get weird, Connor.  Theo has a boyfriend, and Evan loves you, nothing will come of this _ .  So why does this make me feel sick?

 

Theo writes his name in big, loopy letters, and ends it with a smiley face, making Evan smile just as wide.  “Th-thank you!” He leans over, holding up his arm. “Con, look! I got another signature!”

 

I offer him a thumbs-up and a fake smile.   _ Ugh _ .

 

“Say, I don't think I ever got the chance to sign it either,” Aiden realises.  “May I?”

 

So, there goes  _ another  _ big, joyful signature.  

 

Next thing I know, fucking  _ everyone  _ is crowding him, wishing to sign his cast.   _ Where were you all earlier?  Now you're lining up like it's to ride a roller coaster _ .    _I'm_ the one who is there for him.  

  
Soon, the cast is covered, and my name is almost gone, blended in with the others.  Now, I don't want to be a dick about this, but it's like now everyone wants to be friends with him for some reason, which is, you know, cool, good for him, yay, but… but  _ I  _ was the one who was supposed to cause that lovely look on his face of pure excitement, his face glowing.  Now all I want is to write my name on his forehead saying he's mine, nobody else can touch him- _What, like Evan can't have other friends?_ \- I mean, wow.  Holy. Fuck.  _I really am a possessive guy, huh? God, what does that even say about me, our relationship? What kind of person gets upset when he sees other people, for literally no reason, fawning over him?  A toxic boyfriend, that's who..._ I shake my head.  I'm not like that, not at all!  I'm just looking out for him.

 

...Right?

 

I mean, tomorrow, they won't give a shit about him, so why is he so happy that they are putting their names on him? _At least_ _ I  stick by him.  For the most part... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been quite some time. 
> 
> Hope everyone has, or had, a nice time this holiday season!
> 
> Again, I apologise, I feel like this story is lacking in quality as I go on... hm.
> 
>  
> 
> -Jared


	32. Fighting to stay above the water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor brings Evan back to his room, both of them ready to take another step in their relationship, but Evan can't hide his feelings about the future.
> 
>  
> 
> **Contains some suggestive content**

When our group ends, Connor pulls me towards his room before he closes the door, pressing me up against it, immediately kissing me.  

 

“Mmf- C-C-Con-” I gasp between kisses, and I have a feeling I'm already red-faced.

 

“Mmhm?” He asks, already dotting my neck with small kisses.

 

“W-w-wait, wh-what are you doing?”

 

He stops, cupping my cheek.  “I'm in love with you, I want to make out with you, can't really say any more than that.”

 

“I-”  _ Wait _ .   _ This is what he wants, and, well, I'm a teenage boy with a gorgeous guy I like, so of course my body wants this, but.. _  I want to smack myself for being so dumb.   _ I'm not gonna last a week once I'm out of this place, so.. you know what?  Why the hell not? _  “G-give me a second.”

 

Taking a step away, I pull off, with a bit of effort, my soft wool sweater, tossing it to the side, slightly annoyed at the staticky feeling I get when it passes over my head.  I grab a fistful of the front of his shirt, kissing him hard as I stumble back onto his bed, him toppling over me.

 

Looking surprised at my sudden boldness, he hastily unbuttons my shirt, visibly getting frustrated with the many small buttons as I laugh, reaching up around his arms to awkwardly unzip his sweatshirt.

 

He shakes off the sweatshirt, tugging off his t-shirt, then peels my shirt off of me, and we both stop, breathing heavily, stupid smiles on our faces as our bare torsos heave with each anticipating breath.

 

“A-a-are you s-sure you want to d-do this?” I ask, looking up at him, feeling my heart quicken.

 

Connor smiles down at me, nodding.  “You? We don't have to do this if you don't want, if you're not ready.”

 

Biting my lip, my arms shoot forward, yanking his ridiculously skinny black jeans down.  “Sh-shut up and k-kiss me,” I chuckle, starting to fumble with my zipper.

 

He didn't need to be asked twice. Two pairs of jeans are kicked off, and his hands and knees are on either side of me as he ducks his head to kiss me.  

 

I tilt my head back slightly, and he attacks my neck as I hold onto his shoulders.  

 

Connor stops, and sits back on my waist, then picks up my (well, kind-of) healthy arm, and nuzzles it, making me blush and look away with embarrassment and a hint of shame.  He kisses the deepest, worst scars, then gently sets my arm down before he moves to my neck again.

 

His lips feel soft on my skin, almost ticklish, but nice.  I wouldn't even say it's sexual exactly, but… just.. nice. It's absolutely amazing, romantic, and kind.  I love it. 

 

“Con, have, um, have you ever, uh, d-done this before?” I whisper as he kisses my chest.

 

Connor stops, and he brings his body back up so his head is directly above mine. “Almost, with.. with him, but, but we never went all the way, as they say,” he chuckles to himself, then strokes my hair.  “If you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?”

 

“Mmhm.”  I close my eyes, melting into the sensations, fading away into my surroundings, but also having my body twenty times more sensitive, so every touch, every kiss, anything he does, it sends shocks throughout my body like electricity, everything magnified.  Then it’s as if I’ve woken up to what I’m doing. “W-wait, st-stop. Stop, stop, stop.”

 

“Ev?”  Connor lifts his hands and face away from my body, looking at me curiously.  “Are you okay? Did I fuck it up? Oh, shit, you don't want this, shit, I should've known, it’s way too fast, I don't know what I was thinking-”

 

I shuffle my body into a sitting position.  “Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up,” I mumble without intending to.  “I, um, no, I don't know, it's, uh, it's okay, I'm sorry, uh, shit.”   _ Great job!  You screwed up, Evan!  You screwed up! _

 

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, moving away from me just enough so I have a bit of space.

 

I shrug helplessly.  “I, I don't know…I guess I…”  _ Panicked.  I panicked.  Just like I always do.  Just like I always did. I panicked because this, this isn't right at all.  I'm a liar. I am. I'm a stupid, horny liar.  _

 

He pulls me close suddenly, our nearly bare bodies mashed together in a tight hug.  “We can go much slower, it's my fault, I rushed into-”

 

“It's not  _ your  _ fault!” I exclaim, interrupting him.  “I-it's not your, your fault,” I repeat, lowering my voice slightly.  “It's my fault, I'm, this isn't, I..I'm taking advantage of you, Con, I, I, the truth is..” I stop, looking up, wondering if he will look concerned or angry, but he's neither of those things.  His face is calm, neutral, he's patient.  _ I think that's worse than him being angry _ .  “I don't know if I…”  I squeeze my eyes shut, as tight as I can, seeing fuzzy shapes floating in the darkness.  “I did this because you wanted to, and, and be-because I thought it would be fun, but I'm basically taking all the meaning out of it because I thought, you know, l-like, “hey, before I bite the bullet, why n-not get in a fuck before I g-g-go?” I scoff bitterly.  S-see? I'm using you, treating you l-like a tool, I'm not… I….I’m sorry.” I don't know what else there is to say, so I just cut myself off, keeping my eyes closed, shutting out the world and whatever rage he will unleash upon me any second now. Any… second….

 

“Okay.”

 

‘Fuck you!’ ‘You asshole!’ ‘I hate you!’  ‘How could you?’. All acceptable answers.  All expected answers. But ‘Okay’? ‘Okay’ I was  _ not  _ expecting.  “Wh-what do you mean, ‘okay’?” I ask, slowly opening an eye.

 

He puts a hand on my knee.  “Evan, breathe.”

 

I do.  “Why aren't y-you yelling at me?” I wonder out loud, opening my other eye, but refusing to look at him.

 

“Because I shouldn't, because there's no reason to.” Connor moves closer.  “I just wished you had said something so I could've helped-”

 

I stop him, putting a few fingers on his lips.  “I didn't w-want to make you worry, b-but I couldn't hold it in any longer, I felt bad, and I know I messed up, and, and you should be kicking me out, wh-why aren’t you making me leave?”

 

“Do you want me to make you leave?”

 

My fingers fall, as does my head.  “I don't know. No. It just.. it doesn't make sense why you  _ wouldn't _ .”

 

He puts a finger beneath my chin, lifting my head before he kisses me lightly.  “I told you, I'm not letting you go through this alone, I'm always going to be right by your side because I love you.”

 

I'm so, so tired.  I practically fling myself into his hold, and he wraps his arms around me comfortingly, kissing my hair.  “I love, love, love, love, love you, too.” I don't even know if I'm ticcing or if my feelings count for five ‘love’s.  Or both. 

 

I rest my face against his warm, slightly sweaty chest, hearing his heart beating into my ear.   _ Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum _ .

 

He sings softly, some sweet melody I've never heard before, but it's truly lovely.  His fingers dance down my neck to my shoulders, to running up and down my plaster-less arm.  

 

“I'm sorry I'm constantly ruining everything-” I start, but he shakes his head.

 

“It's ok, Ev, just… don't worry.  We can get you better help, you will feel better,” he tries to reassure me.

 

“But-”

 

“I think you do,” he whispers.  “I think you do want help. You’re a fighter.  And you're gonna let me get you this help. Please. 

 

I pull away, uncertain.   _ I'm so tired of fighting to stay above the water, trying not to drown, but I'm tired of not trying hard enough, either.   _

 

“You're going to be happy, Evan.  One day, I promise. You’re going to be happy.”  

 

I shrug.  “Happy… maybe.”

 

He gently shifts my body to the side, putting on just his sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, and hands me my button-down, this way, we both have our arms covered in the chance that anyone might come in, and tosses my jeans at me, and I put them on.

 

“I got kinda jealous, seeing you talking with Aiden and Theo today,” he blurts out in the silence after a couple moments.

 

Surprised, I turn my head to face him.  “Jealous?”

 

Connor blushes.  “Yeah, well, I mean, they're nice guys, and they signed your cast and stuff…” he trails off as I giggle.

 

“You're the first one who signed it!  See? It's massive, it stands out, everyone is smaller!”   _ He's ridiculous, I can't believe he was  _ jealous.   _ Of Theo and Aiden, too, for that matter! _

 

“I kinda feel like theirs is covering mine up,” he admits.

 

I can't take this, he's too adorable.  I turn around fully, smiling at him, at his rare blushing face, sliding my fingers through his bangs swept in front of his face, brushing them aside.  “You being je-jealous is honestly the cu-cutest thing. I'm very f-flattered!” 

 

“Shu’ up,” he grumbles, but he's grinning.

 

Leaning in, I press a light kiss to his lips.

 

He puts his hands on my back, pulling me firmly down, and my mouth leaves his as I laugh with surprise and glee.  Our bodies are touching, arms wrapped tightly around each other, laughing at each other with our blushing, stupid-in-love faces.

 

Connor kisses the top of my head.  “I, uh, I really wouldn’t be able to stand it if you left me all alone, you know.”

 

I lift my head, kissing him softly as I rest my arms on his chest.  “All alone... Well, good thing I’m not.”

 

He smiles warmly at me.  “I’m gonna stick by your side forever if that’s okay with you,” he whispers.

 

“Of course.”

 

Connor runs his hand up and down my back.  “You have no idea how in love with you I am, Evan.  Like, the old me would give me a punch in the face for saying this, but it’s true.  It’s only been a couple of weeks, and fuck knows I’m shit at relationships, and I still think I’m gonna wreck this, but, like, I still wanna try.  Is that stupid? It’s totally stupid.”

 

Biting my lip to keep myself from smiling too much, I nod.  “I get it, I, I, I’m kinda scared, but I love be-being with you because I do love you…”

 

He hugs me closer.  “Please,” he mutters.  “Please know how amazing you are, how you mean everything to me.  I don’t want you to be hurting.”

 

“Thanks, Connie..”  I kiss his nose. “You’re everything to me, too.”   
  
Connor rolls us over, and kisses my neck.  “You’re blushing  _ so _ much,” he teases, then plants another kiss.  “Mmhm, even your neck is all red!” 

 

“B-be quiet!”  My hands fly up, covering my face.  “You’re making it  _ worse _ .”

 

He chuckles, and nips at my chin playfully, causing me to squeal.  Our legs are tangled together by now, and my hands are clutching the back of his sweatshirt, drinking up this energy between us tonight.

 

Suddenly, I wince, remembering that I haven’t taken my pills tonight.  “Shit.” I sit up, and Connor rolls off of me. “I have to take my stupid meds,” I explain, getting off the bed and grabbing my sweater and shoes.  “I totally forgot.”

 

He looks downcast, so I plant a kiss on his cheek.  “I’ll be back, okay? O-or you could come with me? St-stay in my room?  It should be okay.”

 

That makes him light up, and he takes my hand as we leave his room.

 

When I get back to my room, I drop Connor’s hand in shock when I see my mom looking incredibly distressed.   _ Shit _ .

 

“Oh, honey!” she exclaims.  “I wanted to visit you, but you weren’t in your room, so I got worried-”

 

“Mom, Mom, calm down!”  I bite my nail. “Um, th-this is Connor, well, uh, I guess you’ve already met… see, I was, um…” I look towards Connor for help.

 

“We were playing a game of cards!” Connor finishes quickly.  

 

I nod vigorously.  “Ye-yeah, uh, Canasta!”

 

“Blackjack!” he says at the same time, and we share a look.

 

Mom raises an eyebrow.  “Um..?”

 

“Canasta?” Connor mouths at me, a sort of ‘why the fuck would you say Canasta?’ type of look, so I shrug in response, but I can feel my lips trying to lift in a grin.

 

I take a step forward.  “Yeah, um, we played both… yeah, heh.  Anyway, uh, sorry I worried you, b-but there’s no need.  Is it okay, if, um, Connor hangs out here for a bit, I, um…. I wanted to show him my, uh..” My eyes hunt around the room, and land on the Wolverine mug Jared got me in one of those little gift bags the other day which I finally opened.  Inside the mug are the bracelet and plush Connor gave me. “My cool Wolverine mug from Jared!”

 

Neither my mom nor Connor tries to hide their amusement, but they play along.

 

“Super cool,” Connor says, putting on a serious face, then snickers, and I stick my tongue out at him.

 

Mom ruffles my hair and nods.  “Of course he can stay in your room for a bit, as long as you make sure to take your meds, and brush your teeth, and-”

 

“Okay!” I loudly say, nudging her out.  “G-got it, Mom, see you tomorrow, love you, bye!”

 

She laughs, shaking her head, and opens the door to leave.  Before she goes, however, she turns back to me. “By the way, cold compresses are  _ great _ for getting rid of hickeys,” Mom winks.

 

“Mom!” Immediately, my hands rush to my neck, trying to cover them.  

 

Mom laughs and waves, then closes the door at last.

 

As soon as she’s gone, Connor and I burst out laughing, the kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt and sometimes gives you hiccups, bringing tears to your eyes, and keeps you from talking, just gasping for air.  

 

Connor wipes his eyes, panting for breath.  “I can’t believe you have a  _ Wolverine _ mug!”

 

“What kind of an answer was ‘Blackjack’ anyway?  Th-that’s such a boring game!”

 

“Better than  _ Canasta _ !” 

 

I sigh, plopping onto bed.  “Well, at least she didn’t freak out, knowing that I have a boyfriend!”

 

“Very good, indeed,” he agrees, sitting next to me, then hands me my bottle of water and my little cup holding my pills.

 

In a swift gulp, they go down, and I flop on my back, and he does the same, then takes my hand.  We stay like that, not saying a word.

 

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a few minutes, glancing over at me.  

 

Am I?  “Mmhm.”  I squeeze his hand.  “Just… I.. I don’t know.  I guess I’m just thinking about my dad.  He has no idea what sort of fuck-up I am, we barely ever talk to each other, like, once a year or something, bland birthday cards and holiday phone calls that, that last maybe two minutes.  H-he has his new perfect family, kids who don’t want to d-d-d-die, a wife who doesn’t work crazy hours and can barely afford to put me through college. Wh-which, you know, it, it might not have been an issue if I succeeded, sh-she would have enough money to support herself.”  I let out a dark chuckle.

 

“Hey, stop, stop thinking like that.  You made a promise,” he reminds me. 

 

“Yeah.  I know.”  I turn onto my side, turning away from him.  “It would be nice if he visited sometime. If, if he even left a message, just to make sure his other kid was alive.”

 

The mattress rustles, and I can feel Connor facing me from his warm breath on the back of my neck.  “Well, screw him. You don't need uncaring people in your life,” he says bitterly.

 

I let out a dry laugh.  “I guess.”

 

His arm wraps around me, and he mushes his face into my back.   “Listen, seriously, forget him. Me, your mom, shit, even  _ Kleinman _ , we’re all here for you, got it?”

 

“Mmhm.”  But I don't.  I get why Mom is here, but Jared?  Connor? My dad is supposed to care, to give a shit about his son, that's the whole point of a dad, right?  To be there? 

 

Connor kisses the back of my neck.  “It's all gonna be okay.”

 

Swallowing my stupid negativity, I face him, and rest my hand on his lower back, offering him a fake smile.  “Ye-yeah, I know. Thanks, Con, um, I love you.”

 

He hugs me tightly.  “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few days, and I wanted to put in another chapter.
> 
> I've been really busy, but I wanted to make a couple of updates anyway, at least in time for the new year.
> 
> Thanks to everyone reading this, it means a lot to me. 
> 
> This chapter is kind of all over the place, sorry.
> 
> Love you all.
> 
> -Jared


	33. You would never call me baby if you knew me truly.

I wake up slightly sweaty in Connor’s arms, my legs caught in the tangled blanket.  As I try to free myself, he stirs, groaning, then his eyes open.

 

“G’ morning.” He sleepily rubs his eyes, sitting up.  “Shit, what time is it?”

 

Checking, I wince.  “Eight. Still another hour until breakfast.”

 

“Then let’s go back to sleep,” he moans, flopping back, throwing an arm across his face.

 

I want to, but.. my stomach feels queasy, and I ease out of bed.  “Yeah, um, I-I’m gonna go to the bathroom, ho-hold on.”

 

“Mm’kay…” Connor goes onto his side, drawing the blanket up to his shoulders.

 

Casting a look at his calm face, I wish I could nuzzle up beside him in bed, but I feel too sick.  Padding to the bathroom, I clutch my stomach. I take a few breaths as I pee and brush my teeth. Spitting out the toothpaste, I wipe my mouth, then catch my reflection in the mirror.  My face stares back, and it’s someone I don’t recognise, a boy who isn’t trying to hide, but someone who let someone else see who he is inside. A boy who doesn’t know what he wants, what’s going to happen to him anymore, his future uncertain.  Turning on the faucet, I let the icy cold water run over my hands until they grow numb and sting. I pull them away from the stream of water, hardly able to feel the knobs of the faucet beneath my cold and red fingers as I switch them off. I begin to pace in the small bathroom, breathing still, trying to soothe my stomach.  Finally, I sit down, right in the center of the bathroom, just staring ahead, hoping my mind clears. 

 

“Evan?”  There’s a knock at the door, and my breath catches at the back of my throat.  “Are you okay? I mean, you have been in there a while, and I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

 

“I’m all good, C-Con,” I choke out.   _ God, when will I stop fucking lying to him?  When will I stop hurting? When will I stop being broken and ruined?  Does this mean I want to stop? Or does this mean I’m done with my shit affecting others? _  “All, all good.”

 

There’s a pause, then: “Are you sure?  Do you want me to come in?”

 

I rake my fingers through my hair, distressed.  “I’m fine, I s-s-swear. Just, g-go back to bed.”

 

He sighs.  “Okay. But if you’re not back in five minutes, I’m coming in.”

 

“Heh… got it.”

 

There are no receding footsteps, so I assume he’s still here.

 

“Hey, Connie?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, Evan.”

 

I can hear him leaving at last, and I stand up.  After a couple of seconds, I dive for the toilet and hurl.  When I lift my head, I’m sweating, shaking, and teary, my throat burning painfully.  I cough a couple times, then hurry to the sink, rinsing my mouth free of that foul taste, then splash water onto my face and neck.  Rolling up my sleeve, I see my faded scars, almost all gone.  _ Why do I hate that they have faded so much?  I don’t want the attention, but if there’s nothing there to show, then… then… god, do I really do this because I want someone to just notice me?  Jesus fucking Christ.  _ This makes me want to.. Do something.  I want to scream, pull out my hair, cut.  Cut. Cut. Cut… Cut.  _ How can I be this damn fucked up?  How? How? How?  Look at me, lying to my fucking boyfriend.  This is so messed up.  _   _If he learned I've been lying about myself getting better, he would be destroyed, never trust me again.  I guess that makes sense.  I wouldn't either.  And here I am, making it all about_ me _, meanwhile he's in here for practically the same reason, and I'm probably making him_ worse _with all my bullshit._ I'm  _so messed up.  I should just learn to fucking shut up and stop telling people how I feel.  I never should have spoken to Connor and make him worry and... no, it's too late.  No matter what, I'm a screw-up_. _  No wonder Dad wants nothing to do with me _ .  It's not until I feel something wet do I even realise I've been scratching myself.  Alarmed, I pull my fingers away, seeing bloodied skin caked beneath my nails, reddish streaks on my forearms, crescents where my nails dug into the skin, and bits of skin piled around the lines of blood.  I quickly pull down my sleeve, not bothering to clean it, and instead just run some water over my fingers, cleaning away the blood.   _He can't know that I still... he can't.  He can't.  Oh, god, I hate that I have to lie to him in order to keep living like this.  Or, I guess_ not  _live.  Am I really exchanging the boy I'm in love with for the ability to scratch myself?  The freedom of it?  The freedom of killing myself without weighing him down with the pain?  That's why I don't tell anyone.  Because if they know, then I feel more and more selfish and guilty.  I'm a piece of shit, aren't I?  I really am.  I'm disgusting, I'm horrible, I'm... I don't know why I do this anymore.  God.  I don't know why I make myself bleed or want to die or lie or anything anymore.  Is it for attention?  No.. that's me being self-invalidating, like Dr. Sherman talked to me about.  Something I need to stop doing.  But still.  I... FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.  It's so hard to pretend everything is okay when it's not! I'm scared I can't keep this up for long because he'll know all over again, that nothing is okay!  It's not okay!  I'm not okay!  I'm fucking up the best thing I've ever had- Connor.  All because I want to fucking kill myself.  All because I'm.. I'm..._

_......_

_......_

_I'm so tired._

_......_

Promising myself to not say a word of my feelings or let my arm be seen by Connor, I leave the bathroom at last. 

 

Once he sees me, he pats the side of the bed.  “It's cold, c’mon, let's cuddle,” he suggests.

 

Offering a small grin, I comply, and crawl in with him.  He draws the blanket over us, holding me tightly, keeping us warm together.  

 

“You know,” he begins.  “I think it's interesting, I mean, I don't.. I don't want to die anymore?  I guess… since I met you..”

 

I know I should be.. what  _ should  _ I be feeling?  Flattered? But I'm not, not really.  I feel a bit insulted, insulted and guilty.   _ Is he saying that  _ I _ should basically be cured because he's in my life?   _ All I can think to say is: “Oh.”   _At least this means I'm not ruining him as much as I thought... maybe.  Unless he's also lying... fuck_.

 

“I never expected, like, I thought I'd be the type to want to jump off a cliff as soon as my time here was up, but because you're here…” Connor continues, smiling at me, but quickly looks bewildered when I don't smile back.

 

_ He's trying to be nice, I know he is, but all I'm hearing is that he's happy he's not the fucked-up one in this relationship, because I am.  He's happy that he's happy, and thinks I'm gonna be happy because he's happy. But I'm not. I'm not happy, and I don't care if that makes me an ass or not.  Okay. I do care. But.. still. _  “Heh, y-yeah…”

 

He narrows his eyes.  “You seem off.”

 

I fidget under the covers, my fingers twisting with each other.  “I'm fine,” I gulp. “Just… you're talking like I'm not, like, like you don't like me.  Like I'm too difficult. Which, hey, I mean, took you long enough to figure out!”

 

“Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”  Connor rests his head in his hand, his elbow holding him up as he faces me.  

 

“Um..” I chew on my lip.  “It, it just, um, you're making it sound like, like… like you're upset that I'm not cured because I have a boyfriend now, th-that, that I shouldn't want to kill myself because you're here, and you-you're happy that you're not the one who wants to die and you're surprised that you found someone who is more screw-screwed up than, than you!”   _Great.  Now you're reminding him that you're a piece of fucking suicidal trash.  Well done, Evan!  Well-fucking-done_.

 

“Ev, babe, you know I don't mean it like that-”

 

_ But he does, doesn't he?  And I mean, he has every right to, it's just not  _ fair.  “No, no, it's okay, no, I'm sorry…”

 

He pulls me towards him, kissing me on the cheek, gathering me up in his arms, holding me tightly.  “You're not screwed up at all, baby, okay? You aren’t. You're  _ perfect _ .”

 

“Per-perfect? No…”   _You wouldn't say that if you really knew_... 

 

“Uh, actually,  _ yes _ ,” he insists, then moves forward, and I'm on my back, his goofy smile over me. 

 

“I'm sorry I'm so sen-sensitive,” I say, toying with his silky soft hair.

 

“Shh, it's okay, it's okay.”  Connor pecks my forehead. “Maybe you'll feel better if you eat, hm?  Breakfast is gonna start soon, right? Let's go eat.”

\---

While we eat breakfast, Aiden joins us, Theo at his side.

 

I notice, throughout our meal, Connor is ridiculously jealous, every time one of the others speaks to me, Connor’s arm quickly clutches my waist or my shoulders, or he’ll give me a kiss on the cheek.  Who knew I'd have someone actually  _ jealous  _ of other people talking to  _ me _ ? Connor, with occasional nudges, prompts me to eat my breakfast of grayish scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast with strawberry jelly.  It's pretty bland, and I have a feeling I'll barf it all up soon.

 

Yeah, well, turns out nausea hit me  _ way  _ sooner than I thought it would.  As soon as I go back to my room, I find none other than my  _ dad _ outside my room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everyone.
> 
> -Jared


	34. I'm not normal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan talks to an unwelcomed visitor.
> 
> Warnings: Mild violence and unkind homophobic language. I'm sorry.

“Dad?” I croak, my voice smaller than usual as I instinctively reach around for Connor’s hand.

 

He whips around, and I drop Connor’s hand in a bit of a fright.

 

Dad’s face is a blend of emotions; a smile on his lips with too many teeth to be genuine, and eyes that most certainly are  _ not  _ happy.  “Mark.”

 

_ ‘It's Evan,’ I want to correct, but I'm too scared _ .  My eyes dart around, wondering if Mom is nearby, but I don't see her.   _ I wanted him to care, to care about his  _ other  _ son’s well-being, but… but this feels wrong _ .  “Wh-why are you h-here?”

 

He crosses his arms, leaning his left side against the wall before my room, and ignores my question.  “My son-  _ suicidal _ ,” he starts slowly, but appears calm.  “I knew I shouldn't have left you with  _ her _ , she messed you up, it's your mom’s fault, why you're all-” he gestures around with a hand.  “This.”

 

_ What is he talking about?  Why the hell would it be Mom’s fault I'm so screwed up? _

 

I almost forgot Connor was here until he growls out: “Who the  _ fuck  _ do you think you are?” 

“Con-”

 

He steps closer to Dad, his eyes flashing.  “What the hell is wrong with Evan? Because when I look at him, I see a fantastic guy who needs some fucking love in his life, something you  _ clearly  _ deprived him of!”

 

I push Connor away gently.  “E-en-nough!” 

 

“But, Ev-”

 

I give him a hard look, and he falls silent, then I turn to Dad.  “Why, why, why are you even here? Why now? Why n-not when I needed you?”   _ Wow, look, I’m fucking brave for once _ .  I take another breath, puffing out my chest, feeling confident.  “And actually, y-yeah, what the hell  _ is  _ wrong w-with me?”

 

He rolls his eyes.  “You mean, aside from that ridiculous and  _ obviously  _ fake stutter you have going on there?  Oh, not to mention the whole  _ suicide attempt _ ?”

 

“It's not fake!”  Connor interjects from a couple of feet away.  “He does it when he's nervous or scared, like now.  He doesn't want you here.” Dad doesn't pay him any attention.

 

I swallow, my mouth dry suddenly.  “P-please leave. Does Mom even know you're here?”

 

“No, but it's fine, I was going to leave soon enough anyway.” He rubs his stubbly chin, gazing down at his shiny leather shoes. “I came to give you this.”  Dad reaches into his jacket pocket, producing an envelope with my full name on the front. ‘ _ Mark Evan Hansen _ .’ _  ‘Mark’ after him _ . _ That's one of the reasons I hate it _ .

 

Taking it, I carefully open the envelope as to not tear it as best as I can.  Inside is a piece of paper, and when I pull it out, I see it's a check for fifty thousand dollars.  _ Fifty thousand fucking dollars _ .  “Wh-what is this?”  _ And how the hell does he even have this much money? _

 

“College money,” he says casually.

 

_ I can't- _

 

“He doesn't need your fucking money!”  Connor snatches the envelope from my hands and presses it to Dad’s chest.

 

Dad laughs loudly.  “Of course he does. Heidi makes next to nothing, he needs money for college!”

 

“Connor, it-it’s okay,” I assure him, giving a small nod.  “Dad, I… I don't want your money. It's a kind offer, but he's, he's right, I'm f-fine.”   _ Who knows if I'll even make it to college? _ “I mean, is, is this supposed to make up for you leaving u-us?”  _ Bold _ .

 

He squints at me, then pockets the envelope.  “Fine.” Dad cocks his head to the side. “You know how much effort I put into making this work?”

 

“Making this work, making this work. Effort into making this work?  Effort?” I scoff. “Y-you hardly ever call, a-and you forgot my birthday.  I mean, wh-what kind of dad forgets his son’s birthday?”

 

“It was only  _ twice _ -”

 

I can't handle this.  “No. No, I c-can't let you do this, m-m-make me believe that things will work out before you wr-wreck it all over again.  I'm d-done. Money isn't going to make up for your sh-shitty actions.”

 

_ Uh-oh _ .

 

In a flash, a hand strikes my cheek, his stupid ( _ second _ ) wedding ring slamming into me.  Hot, stinging pain burns my face, and I can taste blood as I watch as he shakes out his hand.  

 

His hand comes back, this time gripping my arm tightly and yanking me forward.  “You ungrateful little  _ freak _ -”

 

“Get the fuck away from my boyfriend!” Connor roars, shoving my dad off of me, who looks genuinely surprised at such an outburst.

 

Then he laughs.

 

_ He laughs _ .

 

He brushes past Connor to me, his face up to mine so I can smell his dumb million-dollar toothpaste breath, a sort of evil minty scent.  “Of course. Not only is my son all screwed up in the head, but he's also a  _ faggot  _ as well!” He laughs a cheery yet sinister laugh.  “It all makes sense. Only Heidi could love someone like you.”

 

_ Someone like me?  Mom is amazing, she, she loves me, how can he say something foul about her, either? _  Rage begins to boil in me, and I can sense Connor feels the same way.

 

“She’s just as ruined as you are,” Dad continues as he squints at me, disgust in his eyes, like he can’t stand to be in my presence.  “You’re both too far gone, I don’t know why I thought I could  _ fix you _ .”  Another firm slap, causing me to wince.

 

I wish I could cry, I wish I could yell at him, but I do neither.  I inhale as much air as I can before hollering for help.

 

Seconds after the word leaves my lips, nurses and security guards emerge, almost like they were just waiting for my command.  A couple of guards steer my dad away as he gives me one last disgusted look while nurses join Connor and I.

 

A kind young woman gently cleans my cheek, where I realise blood is spilling from, likely the spot where his ring came in contact with my face.  She says that it's too shallow for stitches, and places a bandage on my face, then smiles and pats my shoulder as I thank her. All the while, Connor watches, looking both downcast and furious.

 

As soon as the nurse leaves, Connor sits with me on the bed as I gingerly touch my sore cheek.

 

Before he can say anything, I shake my head.  “Pl-please don't… I.. don't want to talk. And it's not your fa-fault.”

 

“I-”

 

I look away from him, fighting back tears.  I can’t break down in front of him, no, not now.  “Could I just.. be alone for a little while? I-I’m sorry…”

 

Connor doesn’t argue, but nods and gives me a light kiss on my cheek before leaving.  The door clicks shut behind him.

 

Once he's gone, I finally let myself cry.   _ Why can't I just be fucking normal?  People say all that bullshit about “not being normal is good”, “normal is dumb”, “what even is ‘normal’?”, blah, blah, blah.  Normal is not needing to be ‘fixed’. Normal is having a loving family. Someone who is there for you. A good friend on hand who doesn't make you feel shitty.  Being in love with someone and having a great relationship with them, especially someone of the opposite gender. Being normal is wanting to live. None of these are applicable.  I wish I could have some control of my life, have control without people telling me what not to do. To  _ not  _ kill myself.  Normal people don’t want to kill themselves.  I'm not normal _ .   _ Fuck. _

  
_I'm too far gone, too far gone to be fixed, to be saved, to be loved, or to stay alive.  Too far gone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, this chapter is probably a bit difficult to read. 
> 
> Jared.


	35. I don't blame you for wanting out.  I'm kind of close myself.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (A couple of hours later) Evan sat in his room alone, unable to keep the events out of his head. Connor has kept his distance. 
> 
> Heidi drops by, and Evan tells her what happened.

 

“He  _ what _ ?!” Mom shrieks.

 

“Mom, please don't yell,” I whisper.

 

She shakes her head.  “I can't believe it. I can't believe he came- and, and he slapped you!  Oh, you poor thing..”. Mom pulls me into a hug, and I hug her tightly back.

 

“We should get a restraining order on him or something,” she mutters when she breaks away from the hug.

 

I reach for her sleeve like I did when I was a child.  “H-he called me a faggot when he found out Connor and I are boyfriends, an-and he said I'm messed up because I'm here, and, and because I.. because I stutter when I get anxious.”

 

She lets out a growl.  “I can't believe him. God, what a fucking asshole!”  Mom sighs. “Alright, you have your group therapy session in a couple of minutes, you should get going to that.. I'll see you later, alright, kiddo?”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

Mom kisses my cheek.  “I love you, Evan. And no matter what anyone else says, you're a beautiful, perfect young man who deserves the world.”

 

“Mom,” I whine, rolling my eyes as she chuckles.

 

“I have to go take care of some old farts, but I'll drop by your room if I can.”

 

I nod.  “Okay, hopefully, I'll see you soon.”

 

“Bye!”

 

I sit in my room for another minute, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the dizziness I feel, my head spinning.   _Life would be so much easier if I was able to hide my feelings better_.

 

Finally, I get to my feet, walking out of my room.  I clutch the doorframe, my body feeling so weak and pathetic from all this time in the hospital- and I still have to be here for so much longer!-, stressed out from everything with Dad, Connor, Jared.. everything.  Shaking my head, I take another step, leaving the room and making my way to therapy group.

 

Only Leslie, Helen, and Eric are there so far.  I sit in a chair surrounded by empty ones, hoping Connor, Aiden, and Theo come soon.

 

They do, and Connor looks like he wants to do something, but seemingly decides against it, and sits next to me, smiling warmly.

 

Aiden takes the seat on the other side of me, Theo next to him.

 

Two pairs of surprised eyes look at my face, and I remember the slaps… I gingerly touch a finger to my bandaged cheek and fake a smile.  “I, uh, um, I accidentally scratched myself when I washed my face this morning,” I lie, answering the unspoken question. Luckily, they seem to accept the answer and give me sympathetic smiles. 

 

Connor scoots his chair slightly closer to mine and brushes our fingers together, hooking his pointer finger around mine as he gives me a little flirtatious smirk.

 

Why should I even care what they all think?  If I have a boyfriend? We're all here for the same reason, I can't really get any more exposed than that, and people seemed okay when Theo mentioned his boyfriend, Kyle, but… still.

 

Shyly, I pull my hand away and stare at the ground. 

 

Connor looks disappointed, and even a little bit…  _ pissed off? _  I mean, of course he would be, I rejected him, but, but he understands…  _ doesn't he? _

 

“Sorry,” I murmur, but I don't think he can hear me.

 

For the rest of the two hours, he doesn't say anything to me, or looks my way.

 

\---

As soon as it ends, I decide not to talk to him, that maybe he just needs time to himself like I did earlier.  _What if I offended him by asking for time by myself?  No, he understood... at least, I_ think  _he did._ Regardless, I start to head to my room.

 

Suddenly, a hand grabs my arm tightly, and I yelp, panicked, and try to pull free.  “L-let g-g-go!” 

 

Connor glowers at me, his long fingers digging into my lower arm, the nails digging into some of my scars.  “Evan, we need to talk."

 

He drags me aside, pressing me into a corner, his hand still on my arm.  "I mean, what the fuck is wrong with you? You completely embarrassed me in there!  God! Why can't you just be a loving boyfriend for once?”

 

His words hurt like when he read my letter.  But for some reason, I decide I'm not going to apologise.  _What have I got to lose?  If he thinks I'm shit, then so be it.  I kept trying to warn him anyway_.  “Why can't  _ you _ be understanding?” I fire back.  “You know- you know it's hard for me, I had a bad day, can't you just, can't you just understand?  I'm so fucking sorry I'm not good enough for you!” I lower my voice, my arm going limp, and I slide it back to my side and out of his hold.   _Not good enough for you like_ he  _was_.  “Why are you being so mean to me right now?”

 

Much to my surprise and fear, his face doesn't show any sign of remorse, it's the same fierce and angry Connor I knew in the beginning.  The one I was scared of.  “I've been so patient with you, but you won't even let me hold your hand!”

 

“If you want everyone to know I'm your boyfriend, why don't we just have sex in the middle of the hallway, then?” I growl.  “Or no, because I thought that was going too fast?”

 

“Fuck you!” Connor roars.  “Why can't you be fucking easy?  Why do you have to make everything so difficult, everything all about you?  Yeah, you make everything about you because you're so delicate and precious, the sweet little boy who broke his arm climbing a tree because he has no friends and nobody loves him.”   He shakes his head and scoffs.  “Are you  _ embarrassed _   _of_ _ me _ ?  You think you're fucking better than me or something?  Well, guess what. You're  _ not _ .  We're both fucked-up teens who can do nothing better for this world than to just fucking leave it.   _ Especially  _ you.  It was a mistake to even fucking talk to you.  I wish I never met you because you fucking ruined me.  You ruin  _ everyone  _ with your pathetic self.  You fucking disgust me, Evan.”

 

“Con…” I back away, and I can feel myself tearing up.  “I- I'm sorry... I love you…”

 

“If you loved me, you wouldn't be such a pain in my fucking ass, would you?  Now, why don't you do us all a goddamn favour and fucking  _die_ already!  I hate you!"

 

His fist comes for my face, aiming for my jaw,  and before I close my eyes and brace for impact, I can see the hatred in his eyes, his face showing that he truly sees me as someone he could never love.

  
  
And, hell, I don't blame him.  Everything he said is right.  I _am_ difficult.  I'm not special.  I would benefit this world and everyone else by leaving it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are well.
> 
> -Jared


	36. A life worth living

My eyes shoot open, and I breathe heavily, my chest heaving, a burning, a tight, twisted feeling inside my chest, and I can feel tears slipping down my face.  I cling to my sheets, whimpering, my eyes closing back again. _Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  Oh, oh my god. Fuck_.

 

“Ev?”

 

“Don't! Don't hurt me!  Don't touch me!” I scream, my head between my hands.  “No! I'm sorry, just please don't!”

 

“Hey, hey, you're okay, shh.”  Connor doesn't touch me, but rests his hand by my side.

 

I look at him, his concerned face.  “Con?” I hiccup.

 

“I'm right here.”

 

I take his hand carefully.  “I'm sorry…”

 

“For what?”

 

I squeeze it, holding his hand to my chest.  “For not.. for not b-being, um, for being a bit, uh, embarrassed to, um.. sh-show affection in public... I don't mean to be difficult.”

 

He looks surprised and takes my other hand in his.  “What? It's okay! You aren't difficult, I understand.”

 

“I-I'm not embarrassed that I, I'm not embarrassed because of you, I love you, just…”

 

“I know.  You're scared.  It's okay,” he assures me, his other hand ruffling my hair.

 

“Evan?”

 

I sit up.  “Mom!”

 

She looks frantic and dives for me, and Connor drops his hands, moving away.

 

“Mom, what happened?”

 

She kisses my forehead.  “You collapsed, honey, I guess you were leaving to go to group and you just collapsed in the hall..”

 

“Oh.”   _So.. I guess nothing really happened at all, then, huh?_

 

Mom rubs my shoulder.  “Have you been eating enough?”

 

I shrug and feel both a burning and icy cold sensation throughout my body, scared to give her a direct answer.

 

She frowns.  “Evan, you should try to, I think that's why you passed out, you aren't eating enough…”

 

“He hasn't,” Connor interrupts gravely.  “He barely eats. I try to get him to, but…”

 

“Connor!” I whisper sharply at him.

 

He looks back at me sadly.  “Ev, you can't… you can't keep hiding it.  I'm sorry.”

 

 _Fuck.  No. Why?  Fuck._  I turn away.  “Mom, it's okay.  Don't-don't listen to him.  I _do_ eat.  I do, I do, I do!”

 

“Come on…” Connor rests a hand on my back.  “It's okay, it's going to be okay.”

 

I flinch, growing tense with panic.   _No, no, please. Not a repeat of previous times, being watched over all the time.  I have to make her believe I'm better so I can have a second chance. Her, and Connor.  And Jared. I want to have a proper relationship with Connor, but… aside from him, Mom, and Jared, there's nothing worth living for anymore.  Maybe I am trading in Connor for the selfish desire for death... ugh. I have to get out of here_.

 

Lightly shoving Connor away, I leap out of the bed, racing to the bathroom, and lean against the door so it cannot be opened, sitting on the floor.  I close my eyes and I can feel my heart racing, my breathing coming out shallow. “I'm so sorry,” I mutter. “I'm sorry.” I feel myself begin to cry, and I hug my knees to my chest.   _Why do I cry all the time?  Why am I this messed up? Why can't I be normal?  Why can't I be happy?_  I wipe my eyes.   _Of course I'm not happy.  I don't want help. And help is supposed to make me happy… isn't it?_

 

Cool sweat pricks at my forehead and I whimper quietly.   _Maybe I should break up with Connor.  That way, it will hurt him less when I_ -

 

There's a knock.  And another.

 

“Go, please,” I mutter.  “Please.”

 

“Sweetie, may I come in?  It's just me, I told Connor to go ahead to the group and that he could come back later.  I figured it might be better if there was only one person here.”

 

I sigh.  “I'll come out.”

 

I lift myself to my feet, splashing water on my face, then open the door to face Mom.

 

Immediately, she hugs me tightly, and my face pressed against her butterfly scrubs, inhaling the scent of her cheap perfume and the cleaning products used at the hospital.  The cocktail of smells fill my nose and strangely comfort me. “Evan, listen, you're my favourite thing in the world, okay? Never ever forget it. Nothing compares to you, you're so precious to me and Connor and all your friends.”

 

 _All one of them_.

 

“I love you, Mom,” I say, hugging her back.  “I'm sorry I-”

 

She shushes me and pats my back.  “Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for.”  Mom pulls away. “We will get through this together, Evan, I promise you this.”

 

 _I'm sorry, Mom_.

 

Mom kisses the top of my head.  “I love you so unbelievably much.  Just, talk to me, okay? Please, I just.. I want to be here for you because I love you.”

 

I can't hold it back any longer.  I burst into tears, and sink to my knees, sobbing, covering my face.  “Because I love you, because I love you, love you, love you! I don't want to get better!  I don't! I don't! I'm sorry, it's so expensive to get me fixed like this, but I, I, I don't want it!  I just, I want, I don't want to be here! I don't want to stop feeling like I w-want to d-d-d-d-die!”

 

The look on her face is so broken, so pained, that I can't even look at her.  “Honey, you're gonna be okay, you will, I promise. Please, please do this for me!  Please, I want you to try, talk to Dr. Sherman, please!”

 

“I don't fucking want to!” I scream, my fingers grabbing my hair, nails digging into my scalp.  “No! No, no, no! No more fucking therapy! I hate it! Make it go away, stop making me go! No!”

 

“Evie, take a breath, please!”  She's crying now, too. “Dr. Sherman said that you need to create a life worth living, right?  You have me, Jared, you have Connor! He loves you, we all do! What else can help you feel like you want to stay in this world with us?”

 

 _I'm sorry, my guilt about wanting to leave you guys isn't strong enough to combat my desire to just fucking leave_.

 

“I don't, I don't, I don't know…” I'm a bit calmer now, my fingers slowly slipping out of my hair.  “I just feel so alone, like, like nothing I do matters, Mom. A-and I hate that I have this stutter and I repeat shit and I shake and get scared to hold my boyfriend’s hand in front of others, or, or, or…”

 

She crouches down and opens her arms.  I sniffle and accept the hug, holding her tightly again.  

 

“You're not alone.  You have us. I know it's not a lot, but shouldn't our love together overpower wanting a bunch of lousy friends?”

 

I shrug.  “I was, I wasn't even sure if Jared even really cared about me until recently.  Actually, I still am not sure.”

 

Mom rubs my back.  “Jared.. well, he's a complicated boy.  He's self-conscious and hides himself away behind walls.  He doesn't like to show his true self a lot, and sometimes it may seem like he doesn't care.  But he does, he really does. He cares about you so much, kiddo. When you first got admitted into the hospital, we called for hours.  He was so worried, and so was I, and we reassured each other, helping each other.”

 

I don't even know how to feel right now.  “Wh-why didn't he come in and visit?” I ask quietly.

 

“He wanted to, but he was nervous about it.  He wasn't sure if _you_ wanted to see him.  Jared knew you still were upset about when I first…” she stops and releases me from the hug to wipe her eyes.  “But he really wanted to be there for you. Even before you came in here. He just didn't know how. It's not easy for him to say what he's feeling, but I know he wanted to tell you that he loves you so much.  You're his best friend.”

 

 _I can't believe I kept thinking he didn't really care about me!  That he left me behind, all alone_ …

 

“Mom?”

 

“Yeah, honey?”

 

“Could you call Jared?  I want to see him.”

 

She smiles.  “Of course. But first, I want you to eat something.  I asked to be off-duty for at least another hour to take care of you, so why don't we eat dinner together in the cafeteria?  It's been a while since we've eaten together.”

 

I nod, smiling genuinely back.  “That sounds perfect.”

\----

When we're done, Mom tells me to rest, and she was going to grab a quick nap as well before she had to get back to work.

 

I'm curled up in bed about twenty minutes since she's left when I hear a knock at the door.  “C-come in!” _Connor.  I need to apologise for acting so weird around him when I woke up_.

 

The door opens, and two boys step in.

 

“Jared?” I exclaim in surprise.   _Thank you, Mom!_

 

“I found this little shithead pacing like a weirdo in front of your door.”

 

Jared blushes, and Connor chuckles, making his way towards me, and sits next to me on the bed.  I scoot over, giving him more room.

 

I turn to Connor.  “I'm sorry I pushed you away earlier,” I whisper.

 

“It's okay,” he replies, giving me a gentle smile.  “It's okay.”

 

Jared comes to the bed as well and sits at the end.  “Your mom called and said you missed me, so I hurried over.  I'm that much of a gentleman,” he adds with a proud look on his face.

 

Connor and I roll our eyes, and I crawl over to Jared, giving him a hug.  “Thank you. I'm sorry, you probably have something you'd rather be doing..”

 

“Yeah, I'm missing a massive party for this.”

 

“Wait, really?  Oh, I'm so sor-”

 

He laughs, shaking his head.  “I'm kidding, I'm kidding, relax!  But I would rather hang out with you than go to some stupid party any day!”  Jared gently nudges me off and gestures to Connor. “Your boyfriend looks jealous.”

 

I look back at him, and he's right.  Connor is blushing, and looks a little uncomfortable at the statement, proving Jared’s right.

 

 _Well, what's the harm in being affectionate?  Connor likes it, he doesn't mind if other people are around and see it_.

 

I go back to Connor.  “There's no need to be jealous of Jared,” I assure him.  “You're the one I love.”

 

Jared gags, and we all chuckle.

 

I sit in Connor’s lap as he sits up, his arms around me, head nestled on top of mine.

 

We spend the next two hours joking and laughing, playing games and chatting, and then Jared announces he has to go.

 

Connor and I say goodbye to him, and then we're left alone.

 

“You okay?” He asks.  I'm now laying next to him, and we're facing each other.

 

“I think so… for now.”  I mumble. “I-I'm sorry, I don't want to talk about it, I just.. I just want to be here with you.”

 

He gathers me into his arms, and I feel warmth spreading through me as he holds me close to him.  “Alright, sounds good to me.”

 

I close my eyes, listening to his heart pound.  “I love you more than anything, Con,” I say. And I mean it.

 

“I love _you_ more than anything,” he says, and I can tell he means it, too.

 

I kiss his shirt-covered chest, hugging him.  “I think, um, the thought of us being a happy couple outside of this place, it, it makes me feel like…”

 

“Like?”

 

“Maybe this _is_ a life worth living,” I finish.   _Keyword- maybe_.  “And Jared is nicer now, and, and I don't know, I guess I just, I want to hold on to my dream of the future.  The future where I'm with you.”

 

“I want that.  I want a future with you, Ev.  That thought is what keeps me going.  You. You keep me alive, full of hope.”

 

I lift my head to kiss him perfectly on the lips softly.  “Then I guess we're stuck with each other.”

 

Connor grins before kissing me back.  “I guess so.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late.
> 
> Edit: I found an old drawing I made of Heidi and Evan and thought it was fitting. Heidi isn't in her scrubs, but whatever. This could be in any other chapter where Evan gets a hug from his mom, but I also thought that a bit of fluff in my angsty nightmarish fic could be nice... I also finally learned how to insert images, so there's that, too.
> 
> Edit 2: I also noticed that on my phone, it looks kind of weird compared to on my computer, where I am posting this from. So, that's annoying.


	37. Hold you close to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone drops by to say hello to Connor, something he didn't know he needed until now.
> 
>  
> 
> \---Featuring a lovely piece of fanart I received a while back for an earlier chapter! I recently figured out how to insert images, so check out this awesome drawing by Lola!---

[Few days later]

Sitting in bed, I try to read, but my mind darts, as always, to Evan.  If he’s okay even though I last saw him a few hours ago, how he’s feeling, what’s he doing, and, well, how much I love him.  I smile to myself, picturing his cute face, his eyes glittering when he’s excited, how his cheeks turn pink whenever I tell him I love him, or kiss him.  Once we are finally out of this place, I can’t wait to go with him all over, buy him dinner, take him to museums- does he even like art?- hell, take him back to my place.  Maybe in class we would make eye contact and smile at each other warmly, eat lunch together, we would meet by my locker or his and leave school together, or even, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to snatch a few kisses in the halls.  Well.. that all is based on how he feels. _What if he has to stay longer?  We’re supposed to leave around the same time, but if he tries anything, says anything… what if he does something when we leave and he has to go back?  What if… what if he does something and… and I never see him again?_  

 

There’s a knock.

 

“Come in!”  I shake the terrifying thoughts.  

 

“Hey, Connor!”

 

I put my book to the side.  “Mom?” _Did I just call her that?_

 

Cynthia- _Mom_ \- beams, coming to the side of my bed.  “How are you?”

 

I ignore her question.  “You, like, _never_ come to see me,” I huff, crossing my arms.

 

Her face drops.  “Honey… I wanted to,  but..” She looks away.  “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.  You never act like you want me around, so… but I just had to see you, so.. Here I am.”

 

A bit of guilt burns in my chest, and I nod.  “I’m sorry I was an ass. I’m happy you’re here, though.  I really did miss you.”

 

“Oh, Connie,” she sighs.  “I love you so much. Is it okay if I hug you?”

 

It surprises me how happy I am to hear those words, but I hide it.  “Sure.”

 

Mom opens her arms wide, and I awkwardly wrap mine around her.  She smells like the candles at home. That scent would normally make me gag, but I love it, it’s familiar.  “I love you, Mom,” I whisper.

 

She pulls back, surprise evident in her eyes.  “I-”

 

I cover my face.  “Don’t make me repeat it,” I grumble.

 

“I love you, too, honey,” she says, laughter and tears in her voice as she pats my head.  She tries again: “How are you?”

 

“I’m okay, I guess.”  I pick at my cuticles.  “I don’t want to die anymore, so there’s that!” I mean it as a joke, but she just sighs.  

 

“Have you made any friends?”

 

 _She already knows I’m queer since I eventually told her about Miguel.  I guess Dad and Zoe never told her about Evan_.  “Well…” I draw a circle with my forefinger in the blanket.  “There’s this guy my age. His name is Evan Hansen, he, uh, he goes to my school.  Well, we went to the same elementary school and middle school, but I never really interacted with him.”

 

Mom smiles, almost like she’s proud of me for making a friend.  “Oh yeah? What’s he like?”

 

My face warms, and I wonder if she can see me blushing.  “He’s… he’s great. Really nice, pretty shy, he likes to write, um, he really likes plants?”  I chuckle, picturing him in my mind. “He’s great,” I repeat.

 

“Is he your boyfriend?” she questions, tilting her head.  It seems like she knows the answer based on her raised eyebrow and slight smirk.

 

I tug on my sweatshirt strings, twirling them around my fingers, then letting them unravel.  “Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

 

“That’s wonderful!” Mom claps her hands, looking delighted in this news.  “I want to meet him!”

 

I try to think of what that would look like, but no matter what, it’s disaster- Mom prying information out of him, Evan being terrified of speaking up, she’ll say something stupid or weird, act like he’s the son of one of her yoga friends or whatever.  “Yeah…”

 

“Zoe told me she came to see you,” Mom continues, seeming to move on from the awkward topic of my boyfriend just as much as I do.  “She said you two had a nice chat.”

 

Laughing, I shrug.  “I suppose we did. It was nice to see her.”

 

“Your father said he also came to stop by,” she says quietly, nervously, like I could snap at any second.

 

Gripping the sweatshirt strings, I nod tensely.  “He did. It was… weird.” She looks like she wants a definite answer, so I clear my throat, and put on a fake grin.  “It was nice, actually, I think we understand each other a bit better now!” _Well, that’s one big fucking lie.  Sure, he’s not an asshole, but he’s still not the most caring father.  He probably wouldn’t have given a shit if his embarrassing son died, just have his perfect daughter to care for_ .   _No_ .   _Evan wouldn’t like me thinking thoughts like that_ .   _Huh_ .   _I really am improving just for Evan_ .   _He’s making me into a better person_.

 

However, she appears pleased with the answer.  “That’s wonderful, honey! I brought some more books for you, actually.  I thought you’d like some more reading material, and I also have some of your nice markers if you wanted better materials to draw?”

 

My heart beats excitedly.  “Wait, really? Thank you!”

 

Mom smiles, then reaches around for her purse, pulling out a couple of books and my pencil case with my Copic markers.  “The look on your face, it’s like when you first opened your markers last Christmas! Oh, you looked so happy…”

 

I don’t think I’ve done this since I was a child, but I dive in to hug her, throwing my arms around her neck.  “I’m so glad you came, Mom, I.. I missed you so much. I love you.”

 

“Oh!”  She laughs lightly.  “I love you, Connor. I can’t wait for you to come home.  We all miss you at home, we all love you so much. I really do want to host a dinner for Evan and his family, even though I know you will be super embarrassed by that!”

 

“I think he and his mom would love that.”  I pull away, kissing her on the cheek. “And so would I.”

 

She places her hand on my cheek, soft and warm.  “When you come home, we’ll all go get ice cream, alright?”

 

“Is the gluten-free vegan diet over?” I mock gasp.

 

Mom sticks out her tongue at me.  “As a matter of fact, it is. I started to discover the wonders of the avocado…”

 

I wince, and she laughs.  

 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

 

“Hey, Mom?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

I put my hand on her arm, turning my head from shame.  “I should tell you that I love you more often. I’m really sorry I was shitty to you and to everyone.  If I died, well… your memories of me wouldn’t be all that great, would they?”

 

She frowns, letting out a heavy sigh.  “Connor, it’s alright. I wish we had gotten you help sooner, but…”

 

 _But Larry didn’t want to_.  “Yeah.”

 

Her other hand goes over mine, squeezing it gently.  “I also should have told you I love you more… I should have tried harder… I’m so sorry, honey.”  She starts to cry, and pulls her hands free to cover her face.

 

“Mom, it wasn’t your fault,” I say softly, reaching to rest my hand on her shoulder.  “Don’t blame yourself for this, okay?”

 

Sniffling, she rests her head on my hand.  “Please don’t leave us, we all love you, we do, please…”

 

“I won’t, Mom.”  And with that, I give her another hug.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Email me at cronchmaster@gmail.com if you have some cool fanart you made and want it to be featured here! I really love getting messages from you all, so whether it's to say hi, or if you have a piece of awesome art for the fic, feel free to send me a message!
> 
> \---
> 
> I might be away for a little while. Something came up, so we'll see. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading <3
> 
> (Sorry, I know the quality is sharply decreasing)
> 
> -Jared


	38. Keep holding on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks later, the day before Evan is released from the hospital at last.
> 
>  
> 
> ***ALSO- Thanks for 3000+ hits!***

An hour before, I had convinced Evan to join me in the common area, where about a dozen people of all ages are milling about, talking, playing games, or simply on their own, reading, or doing a crossword puzzle.  

 

We are seated now on an armchair that looks like a decade ago it could have passed as a vibrant green velvet chair, but now the green is faded, the velvet almost completely worn away.  Evan is squeezed in next to me on the seat, practically in my lap. He has suggested we just brought two chairs together, or he would sit on the armrest, but I wanted to be close to him, and no way was I going to let him sit on the side where it was all stiff without any sort of cushion!  So, we’re mushed together.

 

Evan looks around, hoping nobody is staring at us as he has been every couple of minutes.

 

I give him a quick kiss on his shoulder.  “Hey, I told you, it's okay, nobody is paying any attention,” I whisper in hopes to reassure him.  

 

He blushes and shrugs.  “S-still… I don't even know why I'm so shy about this, it-it's not a big deal-”

 

“It's okay if you want to keep it secret, don't worry about it.”

 

“I guess,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

 

I hug him tightly, burying my nose in his soft hair, then kiss his head.  “What am I going to do while you’re out of this hellhole and back in the real world, while I’m stuck in here for another week?”

 

_ That’s right, he’s leaving tomorrow.  I’ve been trying to act like it’s not constantly on my mind, but it’s so hard.  What the hell is it going to be like without him? Worrying what will happen while he’s out of the hospital, what could happen if he…  _

 

“Y-you’re going to be fine,” he murmurs, but I can hear a sadness in his voice.

 

“Now, don’t go dating someone else before I leave, okay?” I joke.  “Because we still have to go on a real date and give each other flirty glances in the hallways at school!”

 

Evan giggles and nods.  “As long as you don’t fall for anyone here!”

 

I make a grossed-out face.  “As if!”

 

He rests his head on my chest.  “I-I’m actually going to have Jared bring some work over to my place so I can catch up before I go back, so we will start at the same time.  He was supposed to bring me work while I was in here, but he said they weren’t really doing anything important. Hon-honestly, I think he ju-just was being lazy and didn’t want to h-haul stuff over here every other day.”

 

I groan.  “Fuck, I’m gonna be so behind!”

 

“Wh-what if I come by every day to help you catch up?  Plus, that way, we can see each other!”

 

“Really?” I feel giddy suddenly.  “You mean it? But maybe you would feel better not seeing this place for a long time.”

 

Taking my hand, Evan shakes his head.  “N-nothing would ma-make me happier than seeing you as much as poss-possible!”

 

I squeeze his hand in mine.  “I’m surprised you aren’t sick of seeing me so much! Are you sure?”

 

“Am I sure, sure, of course I’m sure!  I could never get sick of you!” He sighs, then looks down at his arms.  “But I d-did get sick of that stupid cast. Now my arm feels, l-like, ten pounds lighter!  I liked all the names on it, though. I-it made me think of everyone whenever I looked at it.”

 

_ But didn’t it also make you think of why you got in here in the first place? _  “I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a mood-killer to see other people’s names written on your boyfriend’s arm while you’re having a romantic moment.”

 

He snickers.  “J-jealous?”

 

I stick out my tongue, then ruffle his hair.  “Are… you going to be okay?”  _ Are you going to try again? _

 

Evan squirms, then nods after a moment.  “Be okay.. I’m going to be okay… y-yeah, I’m going to be okay.”

 

I rub up and down his arm.  “Whenever you’re alone and feel shitty, and you’re tempted to do something bad, remember that I love you.  Me, your mom, Jared, everyone in the group, we all love you so,  _ so  _ much.”  

 

He gives me a half grin and nods.  “I l-love you, too.” 

 

“And promise me you’re going to try and eat properly?”  I ask sternly, giving him a pointed look.

 

Rolling his eyes, he huffs.  “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good.  You better.”

 

“I’m so happy I d-don’t have to go to Hell Group anymore!” he pipes up suddenly, his face alight.  “I’m truly free!”

 

I hang my head, grimacing.  “You lucky motherfucker. God, you’re right.”

 

“However, um… my mom is taking the week off to keep an eye on me, so I’ll be under surveillance until I get back to school.”

 

_ Oof.  I wonder if Cynthia- MOM- will do that?  Ha! Doubt it. _  “It’ll fly by, and next thing you know, I’m going to be able to bring you to my place, and we can actually lock the doors and nobody will catch us doing anything!”

 

Evan chuckles and snuggles close.  “S-sounds good to me.”

 

I gently push him off of me, and stand up.  “Come on, there’s something I want to do before you go home.”

 

He rises as well, a curious look etched on his face.  “Wh-what is it, Con?”

 

I grab his hand.  “You’ll see!”

 

***

We go to my room, and I close the door behind us.  “Okay, it’s kind of cheesy, but… whatever.”

 

From under a skillfully made pile of clothes, I pull out a previously unused leather journal I had Zoe bring from home, and offer it to Evan.

 

He regards it with confusion.  “Wh-”

 

“Open it!” I exclaim, impatient.

 

“Oh!  R-right, okay…”  He opens it with a painstakingly slow motion to reveal the first page.  Evan’s eyes grow wide, and he sits beside me on the bed, and I look over his shoulder, a hand on his back.  “‘For Evan Hansen, my bright star,’” he reads out loud, a surprised and amused look on his face, then he turns to me.

 

I cringe at the words I used.  “I know, I know, it’s stupid, just… ugh.” 

 

“Stop pr-pretending you’re so tough when, when you’re the mushiest person ever,” he chuckles fondly.

 

“Just go to the next page,” I mumble, covering my face with my hands.

 

He turns the page with a soft crinkle, revealing a post-it note, telling him to look under my pillow.  Evan’s forehead wrinkles, casting a look at me through the corner of his eyes, to which I wave my hand, gesturing towards the pillow.

 

_ Oh my god, why did I do this _ .

 

Lifting the pillow, I watch as he pulls out a deck of cards.  Evan cracks up and lightly smacks me in the arm.

 

“For Go Fish, Blackjack, or Canasta, whatever card game your dorky heart desires!” I explain, laughing as well.

 

“I’m going to teach you Canasta one day,” he informs me, shaking the deck at me.  

 

“And I’ll introduce you to the wonders of Blackjack!”

 

Evan continues to laugh as he goes to the next page.  It’s covered, not a single white sliver of 

paper in sight, with Marvel stickers, mostly of Spider-man and Wolverine, which makes him smile.

 

The next pages are full of drawings of him, song lyrics that make me think of him, short poems I wrote for him, all sorts of dumb shit I would never do for anyone else.

 

Based on the smile on his face, I’m sure he knows just how special he is to me.

 

I just hope it’s enough to keep him going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been quite a long time. Things are still a bit difficult, but I felt like I should put another chapter. I also felt like this story wasn't really coming out too great, so I decided it might be best if I bring it to an end. There will be maybe two more chapters, and I'm still contemplating whether or not I want to write about their lives out of the hospital in a sequel fic.
> 
> I'm going to try and at least finish it up before March.
> 
> Thanks again for 3000+ hits, everyone, it makes me so happy~
> 
> -Jared


	39. I won't be warm till I'm lying in your arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan say their goodbyes.

Heidi and I help Evan put his clothes together in a small duffel bag, carefully placing in all the crap that Jared and I have given him the past months, the journal on top.  Heidi told us that she could give us about ten minutes before they would leave; Evan already had all the paperwork done to properly release him, but they said that he had to leave by twelve.  So, with a kiss to Evan’s forehead, Heidi takes his bag, closing the door behind her to give us a bit of privacy as we say goodbye.

 

As soon as the door clicks shut, he throws his arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.  I hug him back, my cheek against his.

 

“B-before you start crying or anything, remember I’m coming back in t-two days to visit, okay?”

 

I nod, holding him closer.  “Yeah, yeah, doesn’t mean I won’t, though.  I’m gonna miss you, but it’s so good you’re getting out of this place, you need to get back out there in the real world, Ev.”

 

He rests his face on my shoulder.  “I’m… I’m really glad we met. I mean, I-I’m glad we got to actually know each other, instead of classmates who barely spoke ever, you know?”  Evan sighs, his hand grabbing the back of my shirt.

 

“I just wish it wasn't this way.”  I feel the burn of tears coming to my eyes, and I take a breath, staying silent so I don't start crying uncontrollably.

 

“Yeah.”

 

We hold each other like that for another minute or so, just holding on to this moment, embedding it in our minds.  

 

I begin to feel hot tears soaking through my shirt to my shoulder, and I feel Evan trembling slightly in my arms.  

 

“F-fuck, I'm sorry,” he sniffles.

 

“It’s okay to cry,” I tell him, but I know that’s not why he’s apologising, and he knows I know.  He doesn’t correct me.

 

Knowing that if I don’t let go of him now, I never will.  I pull out of his hold, then take his hands, holding them to my lips where I kiss his knuckles, then clasp them between my hands.  “I love you. You changed my life so much, and, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”  _ God, it’s so hard to say goodbye and pretend like this isn’t incredibly hard _ .  

 

He nods, then inhales a grossly loud snot-filled breath through his nose, making us both chuckle, in spite of the circumstances.  “I’ll see you, see you soon, Connor. And, um, hey, when I look at the stars tonight, I’ll be thinking about you, got it?”

 

That makes me laugh, and I duck my head.  “God, that was corny as  _ fuck _ !”

 

“B-be quiet, asshole!” he giggles.

 

“Promise me you’re going to be okay… okay and safe?” I ask, the humour draining out of the moment as the reality sets in again that this is happening.  “Because you.. I mean, nobody is going to be there, and, and, oh my god, you’re gonna have access to all sorts of things, and you might get hurt, and I won’t be able to help, and-” I stop myself, smushing my lips together.   _ Way to go, Connor! _

 

Evan pulls his hands out from mine, then cups my face with one, the other brushing aside my bangs.  “Connor, Connor, listen to me. L-listen, listen. I’m going to be fine. My mom insisted I keep the doors open, or at least unlocked, and, and, and besides, I’m coming back really soon to see you, right?  Yeah? You don’t have anything to be worried about.”

 

There’s a knock at the door, snapping us out of the moment.  

 

“One more minute, guys, the cab is almost here!” Heidi calls through the door.

 

“Got it, Mom,” Evan replies, not turning away from me.

 

“You know I can’t  _ not  _ be worried.”  I put my hands on his hips.  “I wish I wasn’t such a dick to you when we first met.  Well, I mean, in school I was a dick, but, like, I mean  _ here _ .  Here I was even more of a dick.  I’m sorry.”

 

“We both made a lot of progress, Con, it’s okay,” he assures me.  “Besides, you weren’t  _ that  _ bad.”

 

I give him a look, and he blushes.  

 

“Okay, maybe a  _ tiny  _ bit of a dick.  B-but that wasn’t really  _ you _ , it was just, like, a, um, defense mechanism!  Yeah!”

 

“You really like to see the best in people, don’t you?”

 

He just shrugs.  “I.. I hope you don’t regret us moving so fast in our relationship.  I, I mean, I don’t! I don’t! But I don’t.. I don’t know if you.. do…” he trails off.

 

“Never ever.”

 

Evan smiles gently, then moves in closer, kissing me tenderly.  

 

I hold onto him like it’s the last kiss we will ever have, even though I know he will be back soon to visit.  I know he will, but why am I so scared that something will happen?  _  Nothing will.  He’s in good hands _ , I remind myself.

 

“Dear Evan Hansen,” I whisper when he breaks away.  “I…” A quick kiss to his lips. “Love…” Another. “You.”  I peck his cheek. “Sincerely, Connor Murphy.”

 

“Now who’s c-corny?” he teases quietly, his fingertips grazing up and down my sides.  “I love you, too, you r-romantic idiot.”

 

I smile, then walk to the door, opening it for him.  

 

Heidi beams at the both of us before wrapping an arm around Evan’s shoulders.  “Thank you, Connor, I think I speak for the both of us when I say that knowing you is one of the most wonderful parts of our lives.”

 

Evan groans.  “Mom, s-stop it, you’re being w-w-weird.”

 

Grinning anyway, I wave to them both.  “I’m happy to know you two. I look forward to spending some quality time with you outside of here, maybe… maybe even we can have you guys over for dinner sometime.. I think you would really like my family.”   _ Did I seriously just invite my boyfriend and his mom over for dinner with my family that I treat like garbage? _

 

However, they both look delighted at this idea.  

 

“That sounds so wonderful,” Heidi says, squeezing Evan’s shoulder.  “I can’t wait!”

 

Evan gives me a little smile.  “I’ll be back to v-visit, Connie, I promise.  And.. I promise, um, well, about those other things.”

 

_ Good _ .  

 

Before they exit into the elevator, Evan waves, then the doors close on them both, carrying Evan away to a new future where he just might be happy after all.  And who knows? Maybe so will I. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, and I'm sorry it's been a little while. It also is mostly dialogue, sorry. I'm thinking that there will just be one more chapter. Thanks again for all the hits and everyone reading this who keep this story going.
> 
> The final chapter should be up before the end of the month..


	40. Together, we made it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan have their first proper date on the day before they return to school.

 

Taking Evan’s hand, I lead him through the hole in the chain link fence to the old orchard, feeling the warm sun of late autumn that peeks through the gray clouds, piercing the chilly air.  However, I hardly look up at the glowing edges of the sun-lined clouds, all I care about is the feeling of his hand clutching mine.

 

He laughs loudly as he squeezes through the gap and tumbles onto the nearly dried-up grasses.  I lift him back up as we run, stumbling here and there, until I bring him to the biggest apple tree in the whole orchard, the  _ best  _ tree, the one my family would have picnics by.  We’re both breathless and laughing, and collapse on the ground.

 

I slide off my backpack, setting out the blanket and offering him a bottle of water as I gulp some for myself, easing the burn in my throat.

 

Evan kisses my cheek quickly, then pulls out his phone, snapping a picture of us, squinting against the sun, smiling broadly like children.

 

“We have to go back to school tomorrow,” I state out of the blue once he slips his phone back into his pocket.  “Can you believe it? We’re gonna be back with sweaty teens and mountains of homework!”

 

He sighs.  “Believe it?  Can you believe it?  Yeah… but, but at least we got sort of c-caught up, right?  Plus…” Evan fumbles for my hand, squeezing it tight, warming it with his soft skin.  “Plus, we’re gonna be there  _ together _ .  We can c-conquer senior year if we stick together.”

 

I smirk at him.  “Hell yeah!”

 

“I never.. I never thought I’d be okay, you know? Like…  _ woah _ .  I’m.. I’m  _ alive _ .”  

 

For some reason, that makes us both crack up.  Maybe it’s because we’re relieved we’re here, right now, in this moment.  “We’re alive!” I scream up at the sky, throwing my arms up. “We’re fucking alive!  Hear that, world? Connor Murphy and Evan Hansen! The two of us? We’re still alive!”

 

Evan adds in a whoop, then we both laugh again.

 

“Seriously, though, like… well..”  He reaches forward, plucking a blade of grass between his forefinger and thumb, twisting it around, analyzing it.  “I guess I never would have.. expected this. Not, not just being alive, but having you, having Jared become my friend all over again, stuff like that.  A-a year ago, I think I would have called myself crazy if future me told past me that I would make it this far. You look b-back at who you were, a year ago, a few months ago, hell, even  _ yesterday _ , and you think, ‘God, how did I get this far?  How did I-I make it?’” Evan falters, tossing the grass to the side.  “What if I wake up tomorrow and think that maybe I’m better off dead, after all? ….N-no, don’t answer that.  It’s just hard to believe that I got this far. Sometimes, I don’t feel like I made any progress, other times.. I feel like I m-made all the progress in the  _ world _ .  I keep thinking about freshman me?  Like, way back in March. How the world seemed hopeless.  Life seemed hopeless.” He looks straight ahead. “And, and here I am now.  With you.”

 

“Here you are,” I respond.  “And how lucky the world is to have you here.  How lucky  _ I  _ am to have you.”

 

“I n-never thought I’d get to feel the sun again after that day,” he admits in a whisper, extended his used-to-be-broken arm up to the sky, then drops it back to his side.  “I was so disappointed when I realised I would… wh-when it turned out to just be broken. But now… now, I’m not.”

 

I draw my legs up to my chest.  “I know exactly how that feels. Everything used to feel like there was a big, dark cloud hanging over my head, but being here, with you.. It doesn’t feel that way anymore.”  I gaze up at the sky.

 

Evan takes my hand, his body leaning against mine as he nuzzles close.  

 

A feeling of déjà vu comes over me, but I brush it aside, focusing on this moment instead.

 

****

We stay like that, even as the stars appear, just holding each other close, both out of love and the desire for warmth.

 

Yawning, Evan points up at the sky.  “Aren’t they, aren’t they pretty? God, I love the stars so much.  It’s… it’s like you’re always… well, you’re never quite a-alone.”

 

“Hey, Ev?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I’m glad you’re here, and not up…” I gesture lamely upwards.  “There. In the sky. Besides, you aren’t the kind of star to burn out and vanish.  Not to me. Fuck, I know I’ve said that a lot, and it’s cheesy and stupid, but it’s true.”

 

There’s a silence.  

 

“Babe?”  I prod his cheek.  “You falling asleep?”

 

“No,” he whispers.  “Just.. in thought. I guess I’m.. just.  I’m just happy I’m not up there, either. Even more so that you’re not there.  I’m really h-happy we’re here together.”

 

I put my arm around him, holding him close.  “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, Connor.  You won’t disappear for me, either.”  Evan smiles at me. “I really am happy.. that we had all that therapy, you know?  I just. If it wasn't for that, for my mom, Jared,  _ you _ , I wouldn't be here.  I never th-though I'd say that my time there was worth it.”

 

I flop back, pulling Evan down with me.  “I might actually be able to have a decent relationship with my family!”  

 

He chuckles.  “I guess everything might turn out alright, huh?”

 

I hum in agreement.  “I guess so.”

 

Evan shyly pecks my nose.  “Um, so, y-you're sure you're feeling better?  Like, I mean, I know you're worried about  _ me _ , but…” he stops, looking away.  “But I'm worried about  _ you _ .  And I know you said, you said, you said you're  _ okay _ , but I can't h-help but worry, you know?”

 

“I’m alright” I promise him.  “It’ll take some effort, yeah, but I’m getting there.  My mom said she’s gonna get me a therapist, so, who knows, maybe that’ll do something.  Can’t believe it took them this long to be like, ‘Hey, you know, maybe he  _ actually  _ needs real help and we can’t keep pretending that this stain on the Murphy name is going to go away with time!’”

 

Frowning sympathetically, Evan tucks his head into my chest.  “Are things better with your dad and Zoe?”

 

I grimace slightly to myself.  “Very, very slowly. It’s easier with Zo.  She keeps making me talk about you, which is kinda funny.  Dad is okay with us, but I think he’s still a bit uncomfortable about the fact that his son had to go to a  _ mental institution _ and what that means for the family ‘image’.”

 

“I th-think you need to be patient with him, it’s hard for both sides.. although, who am I to talk?  My dad  _ slapped _ me for being anxious and depressed!” he scoffs dryly.  “He might.. also feel bad about not doing anything sooner.” Evan hesitates.  “But, you know, th-that might just be me, I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you’re right,” I assure him.  “I’m going to talk to him, I think.  It’s just hard because he always looks at me like he’s so disappointed in me.”  I recall this morning, when I was making myself a cup of coffee, and he watched me from over his paper, then looked away when I sat at the table, avoiding eye contact.  Or maybe.. maybe he was disappointed in himself, or ashamed in  _ himself _ , and not  _ me _ .  Maybe.  Wishful thinking.  “Anyway, let’s not talk about sad shit, lets just.. enjoy this together.”

 

He smiles at me warmly.  “We-we’re going to be okay, Con.  Everything will be okay, we can d-do this, we can.. we can get through our lives.”

 

I hug him closer to me, kissing the top of his head.  “Together, we can do absolutely anything.”

 

“Absolutely, absolutely anything… That’s so fucking cliché,” he mumbles into my chest, and we both chuckle.  “But y-you’re right. We totally g-got this.”

 

And we do.  I know for a fact that the two of us, we’re not going to fade.  Both our relationship, this love, and our lives. We’re going to make it.  We’re going to be alright.

 

We both look up at the sky, and I put my arm around his shoulders.

 

At last, I have complete faith that I really have a life that’s worth living, and, best of all, I have people to live it with.  And that’s the best thing I could have ever asked for.

 

_ -Fin- _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this, your words of encouragement really helped this story come to life! I hope you all enjoyed this, and it was quite fun to write. 
> 
> I also wish to apologise for not publishing this final chapter until now, I was scared it wasn't quite right, so I kept tweaking it, hoping that it would wrap up the story properly and maybe even touch on the earlier chapters from the beginning. I also was really busy, and I know I promised to finish it before early March because I knew if I didn't, I was bound to take a long time, but it happened anyway, so, well, here we are. 
> 
> I would love to also hear from you, if you have ideas for new fics, one-shots or not, (since I have no clue), want to say hi, want to chat about musicals, or whatever else, please send me a message! I genuinely love talking to you guys. Message me at cronchmaster@gmail.com if you like!
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and for bearing with me over the past, what, six, seven months? Dang, this has been going on for so long. Wow. 
> 
> You all mean the world to me, truly.
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Jared 
> 
> xx


	41. Art!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FAN ART!

Art credit to FNAPKayla32

Look how adorable!!! 

 

I meant to post much earlier... and then I forgot how to insert photos..  Oops. 

 

I love these so much, seriously, oh my god. 

 


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